


Pieces of Us

by daenoora



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Memory Loss, Mystery, Slow Burn, it's complicated - Freeform, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-31 02:33:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 93,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20107735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daenoora/pseuds/daenoora
Summary: Two years and a half ago, Bellamy had a car accident. Bellamy forgot the past three years of his life and his girlfriend, Gina, didn't survive. One day, he meets a certain blond girl. Bellamy is convinced they knew each other before, and he's going to find out why everyone, including her, is trying to keep him away from her.Two years and half ago, Clarke left Arkadia after her best friend, Bellamy, had a car accident and forgot about her. She promised herself she would never come back into his life. But when Clarke sees him again, she's forced to face her demons and her past, as Bellamy tries to understand what really happened before the accident.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi ! This is the first fanfiction that I publish.  
Note that english isn't my first language, so there could be mistakes. I will try to find a beta reader if this is too much of a issue.  
Hope you'll like it !

**25/05/2016**

« So that’s how it ends? »

She just blurted it out, without thinking. It was like her brain had stopped functioning, or more like it was about to crash. She kept seeing this one image of the last time she saw _him_. Over and over again.  
Miller looked up at her, his eyes full of sadness.

« Yeah, I think so. » he said.

There was something else in Miller’s eyes, Clarke noticed. He hadn’t made eye contact with her the whole way to the airport. Was it… regret? Anger?  
She wondered what he could see in _her_ eyes.

« Nobody wanted this to happen. » he sighed.

Clarke held back her tears. She'd been crying so much these last few days. She had to stay strong or she would collapse for good. She tried to get _him_ out of her head for a second, just to take a breath, calm down. But apparently, she couldn’t even do that.

« I know. »

Once again, Miller looked away. For a moment, only silence remained between them. They couldn’t do or say anything. Clarke was enjoying this moment, in a way. Because she knew that from the very moment Miller'd be gone, it would officially be the end of one of the happiest times of her life. Also, having him here, with her, felt like _he_ wasn’t completely gone yet. Even if she was the one leaving.   
She saw Miller straightened. _That’s it_, she thought.

« Then… goodbye. » he let out, voice tight.

Clarke wasn’t sure she could talk anymore, there was a flow of emotions threatening to get out of her at any moment. She only managed to shake her head. She'd been trying to prepare herself to the idea of being left behind, all alone. But it already hurt so much, she couldn’t bear to watch Miller driving way. So she turned her back on him first and started walking, eyes focused on the airport’s gates. _Get it over with. I can’t resist any longer._

“And Clarke?” Miller called.

She stopped, and hesitated. She was so, so exhausted. She should go and never look back. It was the right thing to do. Nothing was going to change, no matter what Miller was about to say. _She_ was not going to come back to life. _He_ was not going to remember… everything.   
But Clarke turned around one last time, already regretting it, because she still had fucking hope. Because it couldn’t end like that.

« Don’t come back » he said.

And her last sprig of hope died.  
But Clarke barely reacted to those three words. She just stood there, on the sideway, looking at him.  
Then Miller got into his car, and for a pretty long time she watched that one red car moving far away from her, completely numb. When the car disappeared, Clarke finally felt that feeling of loneliness she had been dreading. It was like her entire world had just fallen apart, and she just had been a witness, nothing that she could’ve done would’ve prevent the tragedy from happening. Still, she was the one who was held responsible for that. But maybe it truly was her fault, maybe she shouldn’t have come here in the first place. Maybe she was better this way, as a forgotten memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Deanoora) and [Tumblr](https://daenoora.tumblr.com/)


	2. The portrait

TWO YEARS AND A HALF LATER

**30/01/2019**

“So… you’re going back there.”

Raven was scrutinizing Clarke with her big brown eyes. She’d stopped eating, only focusing on the blond in front of her, analyzing the situation. She clearly wasn’t happy with Clarke’s recent announcement. Clarke felt the sudden need to flee her gaze.

“Yeah.” she answered, even if it wasn’t a question, really. “But not for long.”

“Meaning?”

Clarke picked up her fork and started playing with her food. She told Raven she was leaving two minutes ago, and she already hated having this conversation.

“Meaning… five days, maybe a week. I don’t know.”

Raven nodded. She went silent for a while, without taking her eyes off her friend. Clarke could feel the frustration radiating from her, and she knew the brunette wouldn’t be silent for long.

“And when are you leaving?” she blurted.

Clarke took a deep breath. In an attempt to flee the discussion, she put a piece of bread in her mouth and chewed on it slowly. Raven, of course, understood very clearly what she was trying to do.

“You put that bread down and you answer the question, Clarke Griffin. Now.”

Clarke swallowed hard. She felt like a child who’d done something wrong and was about to be grounded by her mother. _You’re 27, Clarke, don’t be stupid._

“In two days.”

For a second, Raven was taken aback. Then she frowned, and Clarke saw the disapproval in her friend’s eyes.

“In two days? Are you serious?”

The mechanic leaned back into her seat, crossing her arms. Her mouth kept opening and closing.

“Oh, I get it” she suddenly said. “You waited until today to tell me, right?”

“Raven I…”

“You know this is fucked up, right? Like, you’re going back to a town you used to love, but you’re hiding from everyone because, apparently, they all hate you. You can’t even go to one of your best friend’s wedding because of all of this, so instead you’re staying at his place for a few days and then you leave without anyone else knowing. Do you realize how stupid this all is?”

“Raven, I know. But it’s not like I can congratulate Monty and Harper on the phone and send them an eCard. I’ve got to see them at least a couple of days before they get married.”

“Or. You. Could. Go. To. Their. Wedding.” The brunette had leaned in while saying these words, insisting on each syllable. She put both her hands on the table.

“No.” Clarke said, firmly.

“Why the hell not?”

“Because... it’s complicated.”

“It wouldn’t be complicated if you’d tell me what happened, Clarke.”

The blond looked away. Maybe she was being weak, but she couldn’t hear all of this right now.

“You know what happened.”

It was true. It was during one of Clarke’s very bad nights. She was completely drunk. Raven confronted her about it the next morning. She didn’t remember what she had told the mechanic, but she remembered very clearly the shock she felt when the brunette said to her, in a very casual way : _“So. That guy… Hmm, Bellamy right? He forgot about you? How the hell did that happen?”  
_Raven pleaded for hours to know more, and Clarke never gave up. But neither did Raven.

“No I don’t. Not in details.”

_The details._ The details would break her and Raven’s friendship if she knew. She would hate her. She wouldn’t be the only one, Clarke hated herself enough for the both of them.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Raven rolled her eyes and crossed her arms again. She stayed silent for so long, her eyes blank, that Clarke wondered if her friend would speak to her again. But Raven did, after a sigh.

“What if you see _him_ again?” she asked, quietly.

A second before this, Clarke had been stressed but fine.  
A second after this, Clarke stopped breathing. She felt every muscle in her body tense. Her heartbeat accelerated. She clenched her fists.

“I won’t.” she managed to answer.

She tried to sound confident, but her voice was nearly shaking. She needed to calm down. _Breathe._ _Everything is fine._

“We’ll make sure he… He won’t even know that I exist. It’ll be okay.”

Raven just kept looking at her, worried. A sad smile appeared on her lips.

“I hope so. For you.” she finally said.

* * *

**  
31/01/2019**

Bellamy always carried his wallet with him, as a lot of people did, obviously. But it was a special wallet, and without it he felt lost. Today, he also carried his keys, his phone - which is rare, since he tended to forget he had one – and soon he would also be carrying a lasagna recipe for his very pregnant sister.

“Thank you, Maya, you’re saving my life.”

He was standing in her and Jasper’s apartment, as she was writing down her miraculous recipe. He wasn’t staying for long, Octavia was impatiently waiting for him. And the lasagna. Thank god Jasper wasn’t home, Bellamy wouldn’t have to struggle his way out.

“Oh, no worries! I’m happy to help.”

She handed him the piece of paper. His sister was finally going to stop harassing him about this. Because, of course, she didn’t want any lasagna. She wanted the _best_ lasagna. Maya’s lasagna.

“Again, thank you. I owe you a big one. You have no idea.”

“Oh my god, is she that insufferable?” Maya laughed.

“Honestly? This is an understatement.”

His sister truly was getting on his nerves recently, but still he couldn’t help but smile. His heart was full every time he was thinking about her and her soon-to-be-born baby boy. It made him happy. Actually, he had never been that happy in three years. And it felt good.

“I’ll bring you and Jasper some lasagna to thank you. If Octavia didn’t screw it up.”

“Don’t worry, Bellamy. It’s fine.” Maya smiled. “If you’ve got leftovers then bring them tomorrow, Jasper never refuses good food.”

“If it’s good.” Bellamy added, he didn’t fully trust his sister’s abilities when it came to cooking.

“Yeah, if it’s good.” Maya chuckled.

Bellamy looked at his watch. Almost 1pm. Shit.

“I gotta go. See you tomorrow then! Hopefully.”

Maya walked him to the door. Bellamy didn’t linger more, he had to hurry or his sister would kill him on the spot when she’d see him.

“See ya!”

*****

“Fucking finally.” was Octavia’s way of greeting him.

“Hello to you too, dearest little sister. You’re welcome.” he said, as he handed her the recipe. She took it immediately.

“You’re late.”

Octavia left him on the porch, going straight to the kitchen, one hand holding the recipe and the other on her huge belly. Bellamy went in and closed the door behind him before following her. She’d already started gathering all the ingredients. He wasn’t even sure she would be able to cook on her own. She wasn’t a great cook anyway, but he was certainly not going to tell her that now.

“Need any help?”

“I’m pregnant, Bellamy, not dying. I can manage.”

“Okay, okay.”

He couldn’t wait until the baby would be born. For one, because his sister’s moods would stop changing every two minutes. It was so stressing he even pitied Lincoln, which was something. But most importantly because he was going to be an _uncle_. This thought alone made him forgive each of O’s tantrums.  
Speaking of her, she was running all over the place. One would think her 7-month pregnancy would slow her down a bit. It didn’t.  
Even if she hadn’t given him her consent, Bellamy went to the counter and put some olive oil in the pan.

“You know,” Octavia said, “I was thinking maybe we should go see Grandma next weekend.”

“We can’t.”

O’ cast him a murderous glance.

“And why the fuck not?”

Bellamy was careful to speak in a very soothing tone.

“Because Monty and Harper are getting married next weekend.”

“Oh.”

Octavia completely stopped moving all of the sudden. She just stood there, looking at her brother. Then tears were in her eyes.

“Oh my god! You’re right!”

Bellamy was by his sister side in a second. It was crazy, he’d never seen Octavia being so emotional in her entire life. He wasn’t really used to it.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay… It’s no big deal.”

“Those two idiots. Of course they had to get married _now_, when I’ve got a _human being_ growing inside of me!”

Octavia picked the onions and a knife.

“Oh. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be f-“

“Time flies. It’s crazy. It’s like we were introducing Harper to the group two days ago. Look at them now…”

She started aggressively cutting the onions.

“We were so young. So fucking young.” She continued. “And we were happy. The whole group, Monty, Jasper, Miller, Harper… even fucking Murphy. I hope he won’t be at the wedding.”

“Ah. Uh, yeah I think he’s coming but...”

“Then there was Lincoln of course” she kept going as if she couldn’t hear him. Still cutting the onions. “And you, and Gina…”

She stopped. Bellamy stopped too. The tears fell on her cheeks, but she didn’t seem to notice them. Was she crying because of her emotion or because of the onions, Bellamy wasn’t sure. She turned to her brother and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She sighed.

“Those were good times.” she told him.

Bellamy felt a familiar pain in his chest. The one that reminded him of everything he had lost. Everything he couldn’t remember. The one he had been trying to live with for more than two years.

“Yeah. So I’ve been told.” he said.

Because he didn’t fucking know. Yes, he remembered most of his life. But up to 5 years ago, all he had were blurry images and weird dreams. Gina and him had been together for 4 years, but most of his memories of her were during their first year. Sometimes, he felt like he barely knew her. She died by his side, and he couldn’t remember the very last seconds of her life. Was she happy? Sad? Angry? He knew it wasn’t his fault, but he still felt ashamed. When he asked his friends why they took the car that night, even though Gina had been drinking, all they could say were _‘I don’t know’ _or _‘maybe she wanted to have a moment with you’ _or _‘perhaps you had something to do’_. As if no one knew. But they were all there. There had to be more. He kept asking questions for months. After so much time, Bellamy had given up. Constantly trying to remember was exhausting.  
But he still wanted to _know._

*****

After he left, a box of some actually good lasagna under his arm, Bellamy sit for a few minutes in his car. He needed to think a little. He patted his pocket.  
Bellamy always carried his wallet with him. It was a special wallet. It held everything that helped him remember who he was – not that he needed to be reminded, really, but it reassured him in a way. Inside, he could find his ID card, his credit card and most importantly : pictures.  
Most of them were of his sister. Miller and Murphy also appeared in some of them. Lincoln too, in the most recent photos they took. His mother. And Gina.  
Seeing her always did something to Bellamy. He immediately felt the guilt invading his chest. It had never stopped. He wondered if it ever would.  
The car accident had changed his life forever, but it had taken hers. And that’s something he still didn’t really know how to live with. He got up every morning. He told himself he was fine, he was happy. He was going to be an uncle. He would soon go back to work.  
But every time, his thoughts drifted somewhere else. He took off the pictures of the wallet, putting them beside him. Then he took what was hidden behind them.  
A drawing, on a small piece of paper he’d folded and unfolded over and over. It was a portrait, of him. He was seated, a book in his hands. He was wearing glasses that probably crashed in the accident. The person who drew it was very talented. And that was the thing, he didn’t know who’d drawn him. The only clue he had was three words and two letters written on the back.

_“I see you. C.G.” _


	3. The coincidence

**01/02/2019**

_“Hello?”_

“Hi Jas, It’s B—”

_“Hellooo?”_

“Yeah, it’s Bellam-

_“Ahah, just kidding! This is my voice mail. Sorry guys, I’m probably busy at the moment…”_

“Stupid fucking voice mail.” Bellamy swore. “I always forget.”

_“… Just leave a message after the tone! Beep.”_

Bellamy sighed.

“Hi, Jas. It’s Bell. I mean, you probably know that since it’s written on the screen... Anyway, you’re not answering your phone, so you probably turn it off or something. I’ll be passing by in an hour or so. I’ve got some lasagna. Maya must’ve told you already. So uh, yeah, see you later.”

*****

Clarke didn’t even have the time to step into the apartment before something smashed into her. Suddenly arms were around her, and strands of brown hair were in her face.

“Jas, I need to breathe.”

Jasper kept holding her tight against his chest, as if she was going to disappear in an instant. She heard Monty laugh.

“If I let go of you, you have to promise you’re not going to leave again.”

“Jasper. I really can’t breathe.”

“Promise me.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. She could see Monty and Harper smiling at them, as they both went to sit on the couch. Their smiles grew bigger when she mouthed _‘Help me’_. But those traitors clearly were enjoying themselves and had no intent to come to her rescue.

“…Yeah I promise.” she conceded.

“Promise what?”

She laughed. God, she’d missed him. And he was leaving her no choice.

“I promise that I’m not leaving.”

Jasper loosened his grip on her. He waited a few seconds - as if he didn’t fully trust her – then finally let go of her. He was beaming, satisfied of himself. Clarke took a breath.

“… For now.” she continued.

Jasper gasped, an overdramatic shock on his face.

“How dare you betray me like this.”

Clarke suddenly felt bad.

“Sorry… It’s just for a few days.”

“You know what? You’re not my friend anymore.” Jasper said, turning her back on her.

He went to the opposite side of the living room, pouting. Monty only shook his head. Years and years of friendship had taught him not to believe everything his best friend said. Clarke knew Jas didn’t really mean it, but she didn’t like disappointing him.

“Don’t worry, Clarke. He knows very well you’re not staying for long.” Monty said.

“He’s probably trying to guilt you into staying longer.” Haper added.

“Absolutely not!” Jasper responded, from his corner of the room, his back still turned on her.

“You’re not really convincing.” someone else said.

Clarke turned around and saw Maya coming out of the kitchen.

“Hi Clarke! So nice to see you again!”

Maya hugged her, not as tight as Jasper did, fortunately. Clarke’d only met her once, when Maya and Jasper had come to visit her in TonDC, about a year ago. But they’d learned a lot about each other through Jasper’s countless facetime calls, so Maya truly felt like a friend.

“Hi! Nice to see you too.” Clarke hugged her back. “This is a really a nice apartment you got there!”

The two lovebirds had moved in not so long ago, after months of works to make it the pretty place it now was. Jasper was very proud of it, even if Maya did most of the decoration. It was one of the two reasons he wanted Clarke to come over as soon as she was in town. The other reason being he couldn’t wait to see her.

“Thank you! Yeah, we really like it here.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Complementing my home won’t make me forgive you, Clarke.” Jasper said from his corner of the room.

Clarke and Monty exchanged a look. He winked at her.

“Oh yeah? I know something that will.” Clarke smiled.

Clarke was not going to pass by without a little gift. So she, Monty and Harper had stopped at a cake shop on their way to Jasper’s. Clarke knew exactly how to swoon Jasper : with his favorite dessert. She whirled around the room, looking for it, but the little package was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh, I think we forgot it in the car.” Harper said.

“Yeah, probably.”

“I’ll go get it.”

“No, no. Don’t worry” Clarke said. “I’ll go. Just give me the keys.”

“Whatever it is, it won’t work anyway.” Jasper told her.

“I wouldn’t bet on that.” Monty laughed.

Jasper glared at him. Harper handed Clarke the keys.

“I’ll be quick.” she said, already on her way to the door.

*****

Bellamy parked his car. He checked on his phone one last time, but Jasper hadn’t called him back.

“Well, let’s hope he’s home then.” he muttered to himself.

He got out, the box of lasagna under his arm. He slid his phone in his back pocket. He was a few feet away from the building's door when it suddenly opened.  
Someone almost smashed into him, then quickly stepped away from him. For a moment, all Bellamy could see was short blond hair.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” the girl apologized, raising both of her hands before her.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothi—” he started.

But then she looked at him. Something unexpected happened. Something that made him stop talking. He saw pure shock taking over her entire body, her face, her eyes. She completely stopped moving, her hands still raised before her. Her mouth was wild opened. The keys she was holding fell to the ground.

“Are you okay?” Bellamy asked her, confused.

He had a strange feeling about her. It was as if something wasn’t right. As if something was missing. Seeing she still wasn’t moving, he bent down to pick up her keys. When he handed them to her and she didn’t take them, he looked at her again. _Really_ looked at her.  
The sun was illuminating her eyes. He couldn’t quite decide if they were blue or green, but they were beautiful. He felt something, somewhere in his chest. He couldn’t quite tell what it was.  
Her expression changed from shock to something else. She seemed to suddenly come out of her trance, but her body was still clearly tensed. She ripped the keys out of his hand.

“Thank you” she said, looking at her feet.

That’s when he understood what the look on her face meant. She was _afraid_.  
Afraid of what? The weird feeling he had intensified. He wondered _“What if…?”_.  
She tried to walk past him, but at the last moment he put his hand on her arm. She startled.

“I’m sorry but…” he started.

He had to ask.

“Do we know each other?”

Her breath caught. She was still refusing to look at him. She took her arm off his grip.

“No.” she said, firmly.

And she left.  
Bellamy stood there for a while, stunned. Just him and his thoughts. He kept seeing the shock on her face again and again. It didn’t make sense.

“What the hell?” he muttered to himself.

Who was this girl anyway? He'd never seen her before. At least, not that he remembered.  
But if she did know him, why would she lie about it?  
His feet had carried him all the way up to Jasper and Maya’s apartment, without even noticing. The door was surprisingly opened, and he could hear Harper and Monty’s voice. Meaning Jasper was home. He slowly pushed the door and peered inside. Maya was the first one to notice him.

“Oh, Bellamy! Come in!”

Suddenly, the voices stopped. Everything was silent. Bellamy saw his three other friends abruptly turning around. When they saw him, their eyes widened.

“Bellamy… “ Jasper said. “Wow… er… what are you doing here? What a surprise!”

Even Bellamy could hear the panic that was taking over his friend’s voice. He frowned.

“I called you, like, three times to tell you. I’m bringing you some lasagna.”

“Oh yeah, I told him to pass by yesterday.” Maya added.

Jasper froze. Monty closed his eyes, seemingly exasperated.

“Shit.” Jas whispered.

“Uh, I thought lasagna would put you in a better mood.” Bellamy said, as he put the box on the counter. He was starting to get suspicious.

“It does! It does! It’s just, er…” Jasper struggled with his words. “We’re very, _very_ busy right now.”

“Very busy.” Harper repeated.

Bellamy looked around them.

“It doesn't look like you’re very busy.” he said.

Maya looked as confused as he was.

“Yeah, well. We are.” Jasper continued. “So it’s better if you leave.”

Bellamy crossed his arms on his chest. It was too much weirdness in ten minutes. Something was up. He scrutinized each of his three friends, more and more wary of them. He fought the frustration that was taking over his body. He had to be smart.

“Okay, I’ll leave.” Bellamy conceded.

He saw relief take over Jasper, Monty and Harper’s faces. It didn’t last long.

“But first, do you happen to know the blond girl I just ran into?” he asked innocently.

“Yeah, that’s Clar— Ouch !“

Maya was interrupted all of the sudden. Jasper had no-so-subtly elbowed her in the ribs. Bellamy took a deep breath, slowly losing patience.

“It’s, uh, Claire!” Jasper said loudly. “She’s uh…”

“She’s Harper’s cousin!” Monty added.

“Yeah! Exactly.”

Harper only nodded as a confirmation, but Maya was still looking confused.

“I see.” Bellamy said.

They all stayed silent for a while. Bellamy opened his mouth, then stopped. He was about to ask them what _the hell_ was going on, but then he thought _'They wouldn’t tell me anyway.' _He wasn’t stupid though. His friends were amazingly bad at lying.

“Well then, I’ll just be on my way.”

They let him go with no resistance, almost urging him to leave. As he went down the stairs, his mind was racing. He hoped to see the blond girl again. He didn’t.  
But he was going to do everything he could to see her again. Because yeah, Bellamy didn’t understand anything about what had just happened. The girl’s fear. Maya’s confusion. His friends’ panic. All of this was just an enigma to him.  
But he was now convinced of three things. First, his friends were hiding something from him. Maybe they had been keeping secrets from him for _years_.  
He was also certain the blond girl knew him. They had met before. And she was avoiding him.  
Finally, he was going to do everything he could to find out _why_.


	4. The encounter

**01/02/2019**

Seated in her car, Clarke was holding her head in her hands. She didn’t know how long she'd been hiding in here. Her eyes burned and her cheeks were wet – she hadn’t felt the tears fall, but she'd clearly cried a lot. She was in such a state of shock that nothing mattered anymore except the fact that she wanted to die.  
One day. Not even one _fucking_ day.  
And she had seen him. _He _had seen _her_.  
This wasn’t supposed to happen.  
He wasn’t supposed to see her, to talk to her, to touch her. He was supposed to live his life without her, as it always should have been.  
If only they'd never met.

* * *

** _  
19/08/2015_ **

_Clarke was having fun. She’d met new people, everyone was nice. She felt good. The alcohol was helping a bit though.  
She’d been stressed all the way to the little party, but it was going very well for now. Miller had reassured her – _“It’s just a little thing we do before school starts again. It’s just us, teachers.” _Plus, Clarke needed to socialize. She was going to teach art for the first time. The experience was going to be stressing enough, so at least she could try and make some friends. Thank god Monty had introduced her to Miller, who was already working at the school as a math teacher. He was cool, a bit snarky. They quickly got along. She saw him checking his phone for the fifth time in twenty minutes. _

_“Waiting for someone?” she asked him. _

_“Actually, yes.” he said, shacking his head. He seemed frustrated. _

_“Can I ask who it is?”_

_Miller sighed. _

_“My best friend. He told me he would come but he still isn’t here, and he isn’t answering his phone.”_

_“Oh. He’s a teacher too?” _

_Clarke leaned against the counter behind her, her almost empty glass still in her hand. She wasn’t drunk, just a little… tipsy. _

_“Yeah, history teacher.” her new friend told her. “He’s a really great guy. I’m sure you guys could get along.”_

_That surprised her. _

_“Oh yeah?”_

_Miller shrugged. _

_“Yeah, I mean. You’re an artist, he’s a dreamer.”_

_That made her think. Was she a dreamer too? Sometimes it felt like she only knew about nightmares. She used to dream, that’s for sure. But ever since then her dad died, she’d dated a cheater, her best friend moved across the country and her ex-girlfriend broke her heart. She was okay, most of the times. But everything in her life was changing recently, and it was hard. Which was probably why she’d gotten another drink, and another. _

_“Maybe we don’t dream about the same things.” she said, after a while._

_“Maybe. But that makes things more interesting, don’t you think?”_

_He got a point. _

_“Yeah, true. But sometimes all we want is to be understood.”_

_Miller looked at her, intrigued. His gaze made her feel a bit uncomfortable. She felt like he could read her thoughts. She tried to stop thinking in a stupid attempt to protect herself. _

_“You can understand someone and not want the same thing.” he said calmly._

_“Yeah but if y-“ _

_“Sorry, I’m late. I, uh, forgot.” someone cut her off. _

_A young man was standing before her. His black curls were all over the place, his shirt wasn’t fully closed, his glasses were sliding down his nose and there were dark circles around his eyes. Also he was attractive, but he had just interrupted her and she didn’t like that. _

_“Yeah, no shit.” Miller said. “I’ve been waiting for you for more than hour.” _

_The young, attractive, annoying guy heavily sighed, closing his eyes. He apparently wasn’t in a good mood. Well, she wasn’t either. She was about to say something when Miller turned towards her._

_“Anyway. Clarke, this is Bellamy, the history teacher I told you about. Bellamy,” he said, as he looked back at him, “this is Clarke, the new art teacher.” _

_Clarke was expecting him to apologize, or at least to shake her hand, something. She didn’t expect _that_. The Bellamy guy barely looked at her. He clenched his jaw, not even the shadow of a smile on his face, and said the most unpleasant “hi” she’d ever heard in her life.  
She put her glass down on the counter. _

_“What the fuck?” _

_She was looking at him straight in the eyes, her arms crossed. Surprised took over the guy’s eyes. It didn’t last long though, he was frowning the next second. He finally focused his attention on her._

_“I’m sorry, what?” he said, looking at her for real this time. _

Fucking finally_, Clarke thought._

_“Who do you think you are? You come here, you cut me off, you act as if I don’t exist and you can’t even say hello properly?”_

_“Wow, Clarke, it’s okay it’s jus-“ Miller tried to intervene. _

_“Oh, did I hurt your feelings?” Bellamy answered back. “Does everyone here has to bow to you because you’re so fucking important? What are you, a princess?” _

_“Bell, calm down…” _

_Miller was starting to put himself between the two of them. _

_“You don’t even know me, so don’t you dare calling me a princess!” _

_“I don’t have to know you to understand the kind of person you are.” _

_Oh, she was going to kill him. Right there and then._

_“You son of a b-“_

_“Wow! Wow! Wow! Fucking calm down guys! What the hell is wrong with you two?”_

_Bellamy turned his attention back to Miller, his fists clenched. _

_“She started this all thing!” _

_“You must be kidding me.” Clarke tried to walk past Miller to reach Bellamy. She wanted to hit him. _

_“No!” her friend put his arm in front of her. “Clarke, you’re drunk. I’ll bring you home, just wait for me here. Try to calm down. And you,” he said, pointing to Bellamy, “you come with me.” _

_Miller forced his best friend to move, his hand on his arm. He couldn’t prevent Bellamy from casting one last murderous look at Clarke. She tried really hard no to throw her empty glass at him._

_“What a great guy indeed.” She muttered to herself sarcastically. _

_She hoped she would never have to face him again. If she had to work in the same school than this idiot, then the least they saw each other, the better. With a little bit of luck, she wouldn’t have to kill him on the spot. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was the 1st flashback out of many to come. Know that every flashback will appear in chronological order, the dates are here to help you understand how much time passed between this and this moment.  
Also, thank you to everyone leaving comments and kudos ! They are very encouraging :)


	5. The letters

**04/02/2019**

“Harper has a cousin?” Miller repeated, astonished.

“I know right? I never heard of her before.”

Bellamy was seated on his best friend’s couch, watching him playing a video game Bellamy didn’t really understand.

“I didn’t even know she had a cousin.” Miller added, half focused on the conversation and half focused on the game.

“Yeah, me neither. Her name’s Claire.”

_Or so I’ve been told_, Bellamy wanted to add. He was hoping Miller would know her, but he obviously didn’t. Which was weird because _he _didn’t have amnesia. He couldn’t have forgotten about her. Yet, Bellamy couldn’t shake the feeling that they knew each other. So Claire had only met half of their friends, including Bellamy? But when could they have met? Why did she reacted so weirdly when she saw him? Did he do something to her in the past? Did she hate him and was hoping she would never have to talk to him again?  
So many questions, and no one to give him the answers he was looking for.

“Did you ask O’ and Murphy?” Miller asked him.

“O’ didn’t know about her either. She assumed she would be at the wedding anyway, which would make sense. Murphy isn’t answering his phone.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not wrong. We’ll probably see her there.”

“Yeah.”

But Bellamy was not convinced. Something was telling them that if he wanted some answers, he shouldn’t wait until the wedding. He had to go straight to the source.  
He was going back to see the blond girl.

* * *

**  
05/02/2019**

Clarke’d refused to talk about what happened with anyone. Not with Jasper, not with Monty, not with Harper and certainly not with Raven. She’d say that she just didn’t want to think about it, but the truth is she didn’t have the gut to tell Raven she’d completely failed hiding from Bellamy Blake. It was even worse knowing she saw him the very same day she arrived in town. She was hating her dumb self enough already, she didn’t need her friend to tell her _‘I told you so’_.  
Jasper and Monty’d tried to reassure her – _‘it’s fine, he doesn’t know who you are’ _– but they didn’t know how she reacted when she saw him. She wasn’t prepared to this. She let her emotions took the control of her. It was overwhelming : the shock, the pain, the panic. She even felt some relief, because she had seen his face again. It was like her heart had been broken and put back together at the same time. Now all she could think about was him. Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy.  
She could still hear him ask her _‘Do we know each other?’_. She’d forgotten how deep his voice was. How much his eyes came to life when he talked. He’d asked her this, and a part of her wanted to tell him _‘I wish we didn’t’_ and the other part wanted to scream _‘Of course we fucking do!’_. But she didn’t say any of that, and as always, she ran away.

He’d asked, though. So she kept thinking : _What if?_. What if he knew who she was? What if he remembered everything that happened three years ago and hated her for it? What if he remembered only glimpses of her?  
Clarke shook her head. She had to stop. He didn’t remember her. It was all her imagination. She was not going to see him again. Or at least she hoped.  
She focused on the painting in front of her. It was a portrait of Monty and Harper – her wedding gift for them. It was based on a picture of them the day Monty proposed, another day she missed. She hoped they would like it. It was the only thing she’d been able to paint in the last two years.  
They’d welcomed her in their home for the week, so she’d waited for them to go out to get her gift out of her suitcase. She wanted to surprise them. She wasn’t going to be there for them on the biggest day of their life, so it was the least she could do.  
She’d laid the painted portrait on the small coffee table in the living room. Now she was waiting for them to return.  
The doorbell rang.  
Clarke got on her feet, impatient for her friends to discover their gift. She picked up the spare key they left her, just in case she needed to go out. Just as she was heading for the door, it occurred to her that Monty and Harper wouldn’t ring since, well, it’s _their_ house.  
She cursed herself when she opened the door. Of course.  
Her heart dropped.

“Hi.” Bellamy said, seemingly surprise to see her.

Her whole body tensed. She was so close, so fucking close to lose it again. Clarke couldn’t directly look at him. This was getting ridiculous_._ _Why him? Why now?_ She felt his eyes fixed on her. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest she was convinced it was going to explode.

“Hi.” she forced herself to say.

This time, she had to stay calm. She couldn’t let shock take control of her body. _Breathe. Stay cool._ She raised her eyes, just a second. Just enough time to see Bellamy looking past her, in the house. He was searching for something, or someone.

“Monty and Harper are not home?” he asked her.

It was not a question really. It sounded more like disbelief, as if he didn’t expect at all to find Clarke here, alone. At least she wasn’t the only one taken by surprise.

“No.”

She cleared her throat, hoping her voice would stop sounding so tight. She was still avoiding looking at him. Why did he come? She waited for him to leave or at least to say something, but he just stood there, silent. After a few minutes, she wondered if she was imagining him or if he had decided not to talk anymore. She took a deep breath and finally mustered the courage to look at his face.  
She both regretted and blessed this decision. She noticed every detail, every freckle, every wrinkle. She’d been too shocked to do that four days ago, so now she couldn’t help herself. His black curls were all over the place, just like the first time they had met. Unless this time, a little smile appeared on his lips and his eyes were warm.

“Anyway.” he said. “I just wanted to apologize for bumping into you, I guess.”

She was so focused on his face that she didn’t immediately realized he’d spoken. When she did though, she immediately felt ridiculous.

“Oh, yeah. No, it’s fine. I mean, I am sorry. I bumped into you. So you shouldn’t. Apologize, I mean.” she stammered, looking away.

God, what would he think of her? She kept acting weird. One day she was cold and pushing him away, another day she was staring at him as if she’d never met a human being before. She couldn’t even say one full correct sentence. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his smile grow bigger.

“It’s okay. It was nothing, really. It’s just uh… The way you reacted, it seemed like y-“

He stopped in mid-sentence, for no reason. Clarke looked up, intrigued. He was looking past her, once again. He was frowning.

“You paint?” he calmly asked her.

That caught her off guard. She turned around. From there she could see Monty and Harper’s coffee table, with her painting on it.

“Uh… yeah.”

It was weird, reminding him of that. There used to be a time when he would spend the entire day watching her paint, as he wrote down some notes for his book. Good times.

“Can I come in?”

His sudden interest for the portrait surprised her. She wasn’t sure how to react. She wanted to say no, because this was already too much to handle. But it was the second time she was seeing him in five days, and at this point she didn’t have anything to lose. She stepped aside.

“Yeah, sure.”

He walked past her and Clarke held her breath. She could almost feel his touch. A week ago she thought she would never, ever see him again. Now here he was, right in front of her, and she didn’t know how to feel.  
Bellamy leaned in, observing the painting, barely touching it. His fingers stopped at the very bottom of the portrait, on the left. She realized it wasn’t the picture itself that interested him, but two letters. Her signature. C.G.

“What’s your name again?” he asked, his eyes still fixed on the initials.

“Hum, Claire.” she said, both intrigued and worried.

She silently thanked Harper for telling her about her unofficial name.

“Your last name, I mean.” Bellamy said.

_Shit_. Clarke had to find an answer, and quickly. He knew she’d painted the portrait, so her name had to start with a G. _Think, Clarke!_

“Graham! Hum, Claire Graham.” she blurted.

Bellamy straightened up, still frowning.

“I see.”

He seemed to be lost in his thoughts. What was going on? Did he remember something?

“Are you coming to the wedding?” he asked her out of nowhere.

He focused his attention back on her, looking at her straight in the eyes. A chill went down Clarke’s pine.

“No. I’m leaving in three days.”

“Why? Aren’t you Harper’s cousin?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah. But I’ve got work to do, so…”

“Oh.”

He looked disappointed. It was so strange, him asking her about things he should’ve already known. Him looking at her as if she was a mystery, when three years ago he basically knew everything about her. He knew her real name. He knew she painted. He knew about her past. He knew about her friends. He knew so much and now she was just a stranger called Claire Graham, and she was Harper’s cousin.  
He was still looking at her, but his eyes were unfocused. She could see him think. About what? She couldn’t say. He seemed to be about to say something, but he hesitated. Meanwhile, Clarke didn’t move, waiting. After a moment of awkward silence he shook his head, clenched his fist and walked back to the door.

“Anyway, I’m just going to leave then.” he said.

At first, Clarke just felt relieved. Being careful about everything she did and said was exhausting. His _presence _was exhausting. She was constantly afraid to make a mistake. But as he walked past her to leave, her heart broke a little. She had to go through all of this again. She had to let him go. _‘Think about was is best for him’_, they would tell her.  
She was about to say goodbye, when he suddenly declared :

“I’m writing a book.”

“Oh.”

She almost told him _‘Yeah, I know’_ but held herself back at the last moment. She’d wondered if he’d continued writing after the accident, now she had her answer. She waited for him to continue, wondering what his point was. He started playing with his hair, looking down.

“It’s uh… about Greek gods. In our world. It’s complicated but…”

He took a deep breath.

“I was just wondering if maybe you could help me illustrate it. I uh, I’d love that. I don’t know anyone who can paint, and I’m really shitty at all of that, so you know…”

Illustrate it? He’d never talk about this before the accident. Clarke was pretty sure he’d never even thought about this kind of project. But years had passed, he had probably changed. And she would never get to know this new Bellamy.

“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”

He looked up, disappointed again. But she didn’t have a choice.

“I’m leaving in a few days. And I’ve got work to do, as I told you. It would be too complicated.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand.”

He clenched his jaw.

“Goodbye, Claire.” he said, his voice low.

He was gone before she even had the time to say anything. For once, she wasn’t the one leaving. But it hurt the same.


	6. The apology

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys ! Here's the new chapter. Thank you so much for the kudos and comments !  
If you wanna have a chat about bellarke, the fic or anything else you can also find me on tumblr under the same username (daenoora) ! Don't hesitate to send me a message ;)  
Enjoy !

**05/02/2019**

“So, what do you think?” Clarke asked Monty and Harper.

She’d decided to tell them about Bellamy passing by earlier. She couldn’t act as if nothing had happened anymore. So she told them everything : his behavior, his questions, his sudden interest for the painting. Monty and Harper loved it, by the way. They were so happy it moved Clarke to tears. She wished she could be there for them on their wedding. But being there would mean confronting the others. They would know she already broke her promise to never come back.  
Her two friends were seated on the couch in front of her, their hands joined. They exchanged a look only them could understand, then brought their attention back on Clarke.

“I think,” Monty calmly said, “Bellamy suspects something.”

Clarke collapsed into her chair.

“Fuck.”

She was thinking the same thing, of course. But she needed to be sure.

“But he doesn’t remember, right?” she asked them.

She would never admit it to anyone, but a part of her wanted him to.

“Clarke, he doesn’t need to remember anything to see something’s wrong. He’s not stupid.”

“And we’re not the best liars.” Harper added, apologetically.

Clarke took her head in her hands. It was a disaster.

“I want to die.” she mumbled.

“I’d rather you don’t.” Monty said.

“I’m cursed.” she continued. “I’ve seen him _twice_ in five days, and I’m only staying for a week!”

“You know, you could stay a bit longer if you’d like.” Harper said.

Clarke looked at the two of them, startled.

“What?”

“We’re leaving for our honeymoon two days after the wedding. We won’t be here for a month, we won’t mind you staying here.” Monty explained.

Harper and he had planned this road trip in Asia for years. It was a dream coming true for them. They’d preferred investing more in the trip rather than their own wedding, which was just going to be a small ceremony with their family and their closest friends. Except Clarke, of course. But they were happy, and it was all that mattered.

“No,” Clarke said, “I can’t stay in Arkadia and you know that.”

“You can’t avoid him forever.” Monty sighed.

“It’s what’s best for him. We all agreed on that.”

It wasn’t totally true. Monty and Jasper were never totally okay with the situation. They were by Clarke’s side when the accident happened. They did everything they could to support her through all of this. They tried to convince her to stay, but in the end they respected her choice. If it was a choice, really.

“I think that the only one who can decide what’s best for Bellamy is Bellamy himself.” Harper said.

“This isn’t just about Bellamy. Or me. Telling him the truth would impact everyone. And maybe it wouldn’t help him at all. Maybe it would destroy him…” Clarke countered.

“Yeah, maybe. But if he wants to know, then we should let him. We don’t have the right to decide for him. Not us, not you and certainly not his sister.”

Clarke looked at Harper, discovering a new side of her friend. She’d never picked a side before. Clarke and Octavia were never friends, but after the accident it was like the war had been declared. Clarke would rather confront Bellamy once again than come face to face with his sister. They agreed on one thing at least : none of this would’ve happened if Clarke hadn’t been there. And none of her friends’ words and comfort could convince her otherwise.  
Monty was looking at his future wife, his eyes full of pride.

“What we’re trying to say, is that maybe you should give him a chance and see how it goes. It seems like you guys can’t stay apart for very long, anyway.” he explained.

He wasn’t wrong. The second time Clarke and Bellamy had ever seen each other, she’d also been trying to avoid him. It was like the universe was making sure their paths crossed.  
But this story didn’t have a happy ending, and this one wouldn’t end well either.

“I can’t.” Clarke said, firmly.

* * *

** _  
10/09/2015_ **

_Clarke let out a sigh as she closed the door behind her. _

_“Finally.” she said to herself. _

_The day had been long. She was exhausted and she was starting to have a headache. She couldn’t wait until she was at home, in her bed. She really, really wanted to take a nap right now. She still had some work to do, but it could wait. _   
_She walked through the corridors of the high school, already getting her car keys out of her bag. She saw some of her students leaving the school too. She was lucky, most of them were very nice even if some were often distracted. She’d been working for almost two weeks, she was just getting used to the place and the people. Some mornings she wanted to stay in bed all day, but most of the time she was doing fine._   
_As she arrived on the parking lot, she walked faster, eager to go home as fast as possible. She noticed a guy talking on the phone next to her car. She didn’t react at first, but she suddenly stopped when she recognized him._   
_Bellamy Blake._

_“Ugh.” _

_Clarke couldn’t help the sound coming out of her mouth. He was standing just before her car. No way she could act as if she hadn’t seen him, which is what she’d been doing for the last few weeks. He clearly didn’t want to see her either, which was great. At least they were on the same page._  
_Clarke hesitated to move any further. Maybe he was about to leave in a minute, and they could avoid a very awkward moment. But maybe not, and she really wanted to sleep._  
_So she walked towards her car, looking everywhere but at Bellamy, praying_ ‘Please don’t talk to me. Please don’t talk to me.’_. _

_“… thought we agreed. Yes, I know. And It’s great but…” Bellamy was saying on the phone, seemingly frustrated. _

_She walked past him, but he had his back on her. Good. Clarke unlocked the door._

_“Gina… I’m happy for you, really. I just wish… We talked about this already. You said you’d be here s-“_

_Bellamy stopped. Why did he stop? Clarke glanced his way. '_Shit'_, she thought. He was staring at her, straight in the eyes, frowning. He clenched his jaw, then sighed. _

_“Never mind. It’s fine, I understand. I’ll call you later. Love you.” he quickly hung up. _

_He put his phone in his pocket, still looking at Clarke. She braced herself for a new argument with Bellamy Blake. _

_“What are you doing here?” he asked her, accusingly._

_She snorted. _

_“That’s my car.” she said. _

_She expected him to accuse her of stalking him or spying on him. But he didn’t. Instead, he sighed. _

_“Oh.” _

_He put a hand in his hair, embarrassed. He shook his head. For a moment, they looked at each other not knowing what to say. When it became weird, because none of them actually wanted to talk to each other, Clarke opened the door to get into her car. _

_“Anyway, bye.” she said. _

_“Wait.” Bellamy said before she was fully seated. _

Oh, for God’s sake_. Clarke got back up, both intrigued and worried he just wanted to accuse her of something else. She didn’t have time for this. _

_“Yes?” she asked, crossing her arms. _

_Bellamy hesitated, then moved towards her. Two steps, then he stopped. _

_“I just uh…”_

_He bit his lip. Clarke raised her eyebrows, surprised to see him like this._

_“I just wanted to apologize.” he blurted out, as if he wanted the words to get out of his mouth as fast as humanly possible. _

_“Apologize?” Clarke repeated. _

_She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. _

_“Yeah. For the other night.” he explained, still a bit embarrassed. _

_She could see him clench his jaw. He kept looking at her, then looking at something else, then looking back at her. He sighed. _

_“I was having a bad day. I wasn’t in a great mood, really.” he explained. “I didn’t realize I was being rude.” _

_It obviously cost him to tell her that. But he did it anyway. He was braver than her, because she wouldn’t have had the guts. She’d been more determined to avoid him forever rather than apologize to him, both because she felt ashamed and because she had too much ego. _

_“Yeah, well I’m sorry too.” she said. “I shouldn’t have reacted like this. I was... drunk.” _

_It kind of felt good, saying this out loud. Confronting Bellamy had been a good thing after all. She smiled at him. Not a big smile, just a way to show him she accepted his apology. He seemed to forgive her too, since he smiled back at her. _

_“It’s fine. I understand.” he said. _

_She nodded, thankful. His phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket to read the message he’d just received. She saw his smile slowly disappear. He looked back at her, just the time to say goodbye. _

_“I gotta go. See you soon, then.” _

_As he backed away, she couldn’t help but notice the sadness that had taken over his eyes. _

_“Yeah, sure.” she said back, just before he turned his back on her. _

_She watched him leave, suddenly very intrigued by Bellamy Blake. _


	7. The flowers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi !  
First of all, I would like to thank you all for your comments and the 200 kudos. It's already so much more than I expected. This makes me really happy !  
As for the next chapters, I will try to post one per week, but I can't guarantee you it will always be the case. I'm going back to college next week, which means I won't be able to write as often as I previously did. I'll do my best.  
Anyway, hope you'll enjoy this new chapter !

**10/02/2019**

Bellamy smiled as he watched Monty and Harper dance for the first time as a married couple. Their happiness was radiating from them. They didn’t talk, just looked at each other - their eyes full of love. The moment was so intimate it made everyone look away.  
They were all reunited in one of Lincoln’s friends’ small restaurant. Luna had kindly accepted to let them host their wedding reception here, for a rather small price. The entire room was beautifully decorated with flowers – Maya’s gift for them. Somehow everyone had participated in a way or another. Bellamy had helped Jasper write his speech, as Monty’s best man. He wished he hadn’t spent so much time on it though. Jasper burst into tears halfway through it and didn’t calm down until he had an empty glass of wine in his hands. Now, seated at the bar on the other side of the room, he was beaming like an idiot.  
As the song came to an end and another started, Miller got up with his new boyfriend, Jackson, and joined the newlyweds on the dancefloor. Emori then dragged a reluctant Murphy with her, and soon enough a dozen of people surrounded Harper and Monty, dancing with them.

Bellamy wasn’t in a mood to dance. He had nobody to dance with anyway, so instead he remained seated at one of the round tables scattered around the room, lost in his thoughts. He’d been trying to stop thinking about Claire, at least during the wedding, but he couldn’t help it. He got the drawing out of his wallet, and stared for the millionth time at the two letters : C.G.  
For the last few days, he’d been thinking about their last conversation, frustrated with the way it ended. When he saw the letters on the painting, it took every ounce of his energy for him to stay calm. He hesitated for so long, his hand hitching to take his wallet out of his pocket. It had to be her. But maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he should’ve shown her the drawing. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe, maybe, maybe.  
So, in the end he was too scared to do anything, and his coward ass came up with another stupid idea. He didn’t really have the time to think. He actually hadn’t written anything since the accident, let alone thought about illustrating the story. One day, he’d found drafts of the book he was writing on his old computer - words he didn’t remember typing - and ignored them ever since. She’d said no anyway, and she wasn’t in town anymore. Now Bellamy was torn between finding a way to contact her or just moving on.

“Having fun yet?” a voice suddenly asked him.

Bellamy startled. He quickly folded the drawing and put it back in his pocket, hoping Octavia hadn’t seen it. She came to seat beside him, out of breath. Dancing with Lincoln required a lot of energy, especially as a pregnant woman.

“Dance isn’t really my thing.” Bellamy shrugged.

“Yeah, I know.” Octavia laughed.

It’s not that he didn’t like dancing, he just wasn’t very good at it.

“Gina could make you dance.” she said.

Bellamy could hear the melancholy in her voice. Octavia truly cared for Gina, in a way she never did for any of Bellamy’s other girlfriends. It was easy to love Gina, he remembered that. She was kind, patient, generous. He probably didn’t deserve her.

“Yeah, I bet.” he said, because he didn’t have a clear memory of them dancing.

They stayed silent for a while, Octavia watching Lincoln dance with Luna, and Bellamy lost in his thoughts once again. His friends had told him he kept having these _‘blackouts’_ since the accident. He would just create his own bubble, cutting himself from the rest of the world without even realizing it. According to his psychologist, this was perfectly normal. He just needed time.

“Harper’s cousin didn’t come?” Octavia asked him.

Bellamy looked at her, surprised. He didn’t except her to remember that. He’d only mention her once, and Octavia’d never heard of her. She also didn’t seem to care about this.

“Uh, no.”

He suddenly was very aware of the drawing hidden in his pocket, as if Octavia could see through it. It was stupid, really. When he first found the portrait, he was barely recovering. He ignored it, because it didn’t matter at the time. Then, he would just keep it with him for no reason at all. He always thought_ ‘I need to ask them about the drawing’_. But he had so much to ask already. What happened the night of the accident? Where were Gina and him heading to? When did Murphy met Emori? What Christmas gifts did he get for Octavia?  
It felt like his own life didn’t belong to him anymore. He depended on the others all the time. He didn’t even know how to be himself. So when the time came to talk about the portrait, he didn’t. Because it was his own, little secret. It belonged to him, and the person who’d drawn him. Whoever it was.

“Oh, look! That’s Mom’s favorite flowers.” his sister said, pointing at the little bouquet in the middle of the table.

Bellamy looked up. White tulips. When he was old enough to work, he would always insist on buying his mom a gift for her birthday. She always refused at first, but since he kept insisting, she would end up asking for a bunch of white tulips. Sometimes he only bought one tulip. But it didn’t matter, Aurora was the happiest woman alive. When Bellamy had his accident, Octavia would bring those same flowers almost every time she would come to visit him at the hospital. It was the only beautiful thing to look at in this white, bland room. He’d spent hours and hours staring at them, lying in this bed, half conscious of what was happening to him. Sometimes Miller and Murphy came too. The nurses would often check on him, asking him questions, making sure he was doing fine. One day, a girl busted into his room. He remembers that, because she seemed so lost. He was high, so he didn’t immediately realize someone was in the room. Then he heard the nurse asking the girl to get out, and he looked up.

_‘You’re not allowed to be here, Miss.’_

_‘I’m sorry… I-I’m sorry...’_

As she was leaving, she casted one last glance at him. That’s when he locked eyes with her. Hers were so blue, full of sadness. Her blond hair circled her face.  
Bellamy froze.  
Blond hair. Blue eyes.  
He kept seeing her face, again and again. Unbelievable.  
He was such an idiot.  
Bellamy suddenly got up. Octavia asked where he was going, but he didn’t answer. He had to talk to Jasper. He walked towards him, determined to get the answers he wanted. He almost bumped into Murphy, but he dodged him at the last moment. He kept moving.  
He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t making things up. She was _there_. Her hair was longer, she had dark circles under her eyes, but there was no doubt in his mind.  
Bellamy finally reached the counter Jasper was seated at. When his friend saw him, his smile grew even bigger. He opened his arms, as if to embrace him.

“Bellamyyyy! Oh my, look at you! Looking good as hell…”

“We need to talk.” Bellamy stated.

Jasper was obviously drunk, which could either be very inconvenient or very useful. Bellamy was praying it would be the latter.

“Oh wow, so serious!”

Jasper dropped his arms to his side, disappointed by his friend’s lack of response to his display of affection. Bellamy didn’t waste any more time, impatient to get answers.

“I know where I’ve seen Claire before.”

“Claire?”

Bellamy frowned. Did Jasper forget her name? He was even more drunk than he looked, then, which wasn't great.

“Yeah, Harper’s cousin. Short, blond hair. Blue eyes…”

“Oooooooh!”

Jasper’s jaw dropped, his eyes widened. Realization seemed to suddenly hit him.

“You remember?” he asked, his voice suddenly very high.

“Yeah.” Bellamy said. “She went to see me at the hospital, after the accident. She came into the room and left. She didn’t say anything, at least not to me, but she was there. It was her, I’m sure of this.”

Jasper hadn’t moved an inch, still gaping at Bellamy. He blinked a few times, processing everything he’d just heard. He finally closed his mouth and frowned, lost in his thoughts - which probably didn’t make a lot of sense.

“Uh. Wow.” is all he said.

Bellamy waited for him to confirm or deny everything, or at least to say something. But his friend kept blinking as if it would help him understand what was going on. He was way too drunk for this. Bellamy sighed and brought a hand up his head, playing with his hair. A bad habit he had when he was stressed.

“Listen, Jas. I just need uh… I just need to talk to her.”

Jasper eyes widened even more, in horror this time. He pointed a finger a Bellamy.

“This…” he said, poking Bellamy’s torso, “… is _not_ a great idea.”

“Come on…”

“Nope. Nope. No. This is forbidden by the law.”

Jasper slapped his hand against the counter, as if to show how serious his words were.

“What law?” Bellamy asked frowning.

“Our law.” Jasper answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Bellamy shook his head. None of the things Jasper said made sense anyway.

“Please. This is important to me.”

“Can’t.”

“Just her number.”

“Nope.”

“If she doesn’t want to talk to me then I won’t try to contact her ever again.”

“Liar.”

“I won’t tell her it was you who gave me her number.”

Jasper side eyed Bellamy, suspicious.

“She’ll guess.”

Bellamy closed his eyes, discouraged. Even drunk, Jasper could be stubborn as fuck.

“Well then If I can’t speak with her, then _you_ tell me the truth.” he told Jasper, in an accusing tone.

He was sick of all these secrets.

“Oh no.” Jasper said.

“Here’s the thing. I won’t stop until I have some answers.” Bellamy said firmly, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I will ask everyone in this room if I have to. So you either tell me everything now, or you give me that damn number.”

Jasper looked around him, watching everyone dancing, talking, drinking. Suddenly, he seemed more serious, thinking. Bellamy didn’t know what exactly, but something had made Jasper consider his request.

“Once.” Jasper conceded.

Bellamy extended his hand. Jasper stared at it for a moment, then shook it.

“Once, I swear.”

Weirdly, Jasper refused to show the number on his phone. Instead, he wrote it on a napkin. He thought it was funny – people would think he was hitting on Bellamy. Bellamy smiled as he handed him the number.  
He had one chance. He couldn’t allow himself to ruin it.


	8. The decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey !  
So here is one of the longest chapter I've written so far. Maybe not the most "exciting" but definitely fundamental to the story. I hope you'll like it !  
As always, thank you so much for your kudos and comments. It's so pleasing to see people actually enjoy this story.

**11/02/2019**

_Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. _

Raven, still half asleep, didn’t immediately understand where the sound came from. Actually, she didn’t understand where she was either. Her headache indicated she’d drank a lot, and with a little effort she finally remembered going out with Clarke the night before. _“I need to forget who I am tonight”_ her friend had told her. And Raven’d gladly accepted. She’d just broken up with Wick, and she needed to forget who _he_ was. Asshole.  
She opened her eyes just a little bit, but enough to recognize the room she was sleeping in. She wasn’t at a stranger’s house, which was a relief. She was in Clarke’s room, or more so Abby’s gest room. Her friend really needed to find a new place to live. Speaking of her, she was laying just beside Raven, deeply asleep. And the ‘_bzzz, bzzz’_ she heard a minute ago was probably coming from her phone. Since it’d stopped, Raven closed her eyes, still tired. She didn’t even know what time it was. Just as she was falling asleep, the phone started buzzing again.

_Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. _

_Oh, hell no_, she thought. She took one of the pillows beside her and put it on her head, determined to sleep. The buzzing stopped. Raven’s body relaxed. Silence, at last.  
A few minutes passed.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

“Oh fuckin hell, Clarke! Answer your damn phone or turn it off!” Raven grumbled.

Since her friend didn’t seem to move, and the phone kept fucking buzzing, Raven threw the pillow beside her and straightened up.

“Clarke!” she called again.

She turned around to face her, pissed. But the blond still had her eyes closed, and clearly hadn’t heard anything. Clarke wasn’t one to sleep a lot, but once she was asleep, the world could be ending and she still wouldn’t wake up. Raven cursed her for that. She crawled on the bed, reaching for the bed table across from her. Half of her body was on Clarke, squeezing her. She hoped it would bother her enough to wake her up, but the blond barely moved.

“I hate you.” Raven mumbled.

She picked up the phone and sat on her side of the bed. Her frustration was at its highest point, so she answered without even looking at the number.

“What?” she aggressively said.

She hated Clarke, she hated this phone, she hated Wick, but most importantly she hated the person who kept calling again and again. Because of them she couldn’t sleep, so whoever it was didn’t deserve her sympathy.

“Uh, h-hi.” a guy answered.

He had a deep voice, which was in total contrast with his insecure tone. Raven frowned, she didn’t recognize him. Before she could ask who he was, he started to speak again.

“I uh… I’m sorry if I got the wrong number… I, uh, I was looking for Claire Graham?”

“Claire Graham?”

So the guy had called not once, not twice, but three fucking times in ten minutes and woke Raven up for the wrong number? This thought alone made her blood boil.

“Yes, uh… a friend of hers gave me this number. Jasper Jordan? Maybe you know him?”

She knew Clarke had a friend called Jasper. But Clarke wasn’t Claire… whatever her last name was.

“Yeah, maybe. Who are you anyway?” she asked, irritated.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself uh… Bellamy. Bellamy Blake.”

Raven froze.

“What?”

“What what?” the guy said, confused.

“What’s your name again?”

“Bellamy Blake. Why?”

_Bellamy._  
The Bellamy.  
Raven glanced at Clarke, peacefully asleep. She thought about Clarke’s sadness. She thought about all the things she wouldn’t tell her, about all the nights she would spend by her side as Clarke cried herself to sleep. She thought about Clarke’s panic when she found out she’d told Raven about Bellamy. She thought about what she’d told her at the bar. ‘_He still doesn’t who I am anyway. He doesn’t even know my real name.’_ she’d said, before ordering another shot.

“Who are you looking for again?” Raven asked Bellamy.

“Claire Graham.” he repeated.

Claire Graham. Clarke Griffin.  
Damn it.  
Raven bit her lip. She had an idea, but it could end badly. She could regret it for the rest of her life. Clarke would never forgive her. Maybe she shouldn’t do it. It wasn’t her choice to make.

“Hello?” Bellamy said.

Raven’d been silent for too long, and she still didn’t know what to do. She knew what Clarke would’ve wanted. But she knew what Clarke needed, too.

“Yeah, I know her.” Raven finally told him.

“Oh.” he said, she could hear the surprise in his voice. “I thought…”

“I misheard.” she cut him off.

She would regret that decision, she knew that. But she couldn’t help but feel like it had to be done.

“So this is her number?” he asked, still confused.

“Yeah. She’s busy right now.”

Clarke was snoring beside her.

“Great.” Bellamy sighed, relieved. “I’m sorry to bother. I just uh… I’d like to see her again. To work on a project. She told me she had a lot of work but…”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m going to take care of… the work. I’m one of her colleagues.”

“Oh, you’re an painter too?”

Raven’s eyes widened. She thought about her garage full of tools and pieces of cars and machines she spent most her time in.

“Uh… yeah.” she said.

She couldn’t draw a tree properly.

“Anyway. Don’t worry, she’ll call you back soon.” Raven reassured him.

If she succeeded in convincing Clarke to. Which was going to be hard.

“Okay, great. Thank you so much.”

He sounded much more confident and relaxed than earlier. Raven winced. She hoped he wouldn’t be too disappointed if her plan didn’t work out. She couldn’t force Clarke into talking to him again.

“You’re welcome.”

She hung up, now fully awake, and waited for Clarke to wake up.

*****

“I want you to leave.” Clarke said, her voice shaking, as she went down the stairs.

Raven was close behind her, carrying her stuff. She winced at the words.

“Clarke, I’m sorry.” she told her for the hundredth time. “I wasn’t sure what to do…”

“You could’ve just hang up!”

“He would’ve call you back.”

“So what? This wasn’t your fucking choice to make!” Clarke shouted.

Raven paused, watching her friend’s eyes fill with tears and her body shaking. She’d never seen Clarke like this. She was beyond mad. Raven knew her decision would have consequences, but maybe she’d underestimated the effect it would have on Clarke. So yeah, she regretted it. But it didn’t mean she shouldn’t defend herself. She took a breath and tried to speak as smoothly as possible.

“What about his choice?”

Clarke’s eyes widened, shocked.

“I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.”

“Clarke…”

“How fucking dare you? You made a decision for me _and _for him! You had no right!”

She turned her back on Raven and started walking towards the front door, passing by the kitchen where Abby was drinking a coffee. She’d got up from her chair, frowning.

“Girls, what’s going on?” she said, as she put her mug on the table beside her.

Raven followed Clarke, pursing her lips. She gave an apologetic look at Abby. Abby crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation.

“Nothing.” the blond said.

Abby frowned.

“Clarke…”

“Raven just needs to leave.” she said, clenching her jaw.

She opened the door, clearly indicating Raven didn’t have a choice. The brunette resisted the urge to strike back, frustrated that Clarke wouldn’t listen to her explanations.

“Good luck, Abby.” she said instead, walking out of the house.

Clarke slammed the door behind her. She didn’t wait for her mother to speak before she said, her voice firm :

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Then she headed back to her room, leaving Abby to her confusion, and cried for hours.

*****

Only hunger convinced Clarke to get out of her bedroom. She’d been in there for hours, curled up in her bed. She felt miserable, betrayed.  
She knew Monty and Harper wanted her to talk to Bellamy, but Raven had made this choice _for_ her. She knew Clarke wasn’t ready. She knew how hard it was for her. Still, Raven had decided on her own. As if Clarke’s opinion didn’t matter. But it wasn’t her life, her past at stake. It wasn’t fucking fair.  
She went down the stairs, her steps heavy. She felt completely drained of energy, and she had an awful headache. The alcohol from the night before wasn’t helping.  
She found Abby in the living room, seated on the couch with boxes all around her. Clarke walked past her and went straight to the kitchen to pick up some food and an aspirin. She returned with a plate full of home-made sandwiches and a glass of water she put on the coffee table, then sat on the chair next to her mother.  
She ate quietly, watching her mother going through the boxes she’d probably taken from the garage. Abby didn’t acknowledge Clarke’s presence, but she didn’t seem angry. A few minutes passed before Clarke finally spoke.

“What are you doing?” she asked her.

Abby sighed.

“Your father gave me this pretty watch, one day. You know, with the red band? Anyway, I broke this one yesterday.”

She pointed at a small watch on the other end of the coffee table.

“So I’m looking for the other one. But I can’t find it for the life of me.” she continued.

“Did you check in your jewelry box?” Clarke shrugged.

“Of course I did.”

Abby closed the box she was holding and put it down beside the couch, before picking up another one. As she started digging through it, they remained silent again. From her chair, Clarke could see a bit of what was inside. Bunch of random objects that belonged to her dad – a glasses case, an old wallet, a t-shirt with paint on it… Her dad had died eleven years ago, but Clarke still felt a heart broke a little. She was only sixteen when he had his accident. His death had changed her forever, even if it took her some time to realize this. She was good at losing the people she loved, apparently.

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” Abby suddenly asked, her voice calm.

Clarke’s body tensed. Abby wasn’t looking at her, she just kept searching for the watch, as if she’d just asked about the weather.

“I’d rather not.” Clarke said.

Abby straightened, and finally stared at her. Her eyes went down her face : her eyes, her cheeks, her mouth. She noticed Clarke’s joined hands – her attempt to keep them from shaking. The more she was looking at her, the more worried her mother seemed. Clarke looked down. She didn’t want to see that.

“When your father died…” Abby started.

“I’m not doing this.” Clarke said, getting up from her chair.

“Clarke, please.”

She was heading for the stairs, but something in her mother’s voice stopped her. She wasn’t just asking, she was _desperate _for Clarke to listen her. She closed her eyes, sighing. She knew she was being unfair to Abby. When her father died, she avoided her mother for months. When Wells moved to Canada, she refused to talk about it. When she came back here, two years and half ago, she didn’t give her an explanation. She’d never told her why she’d spent so many nights crying, alone. But Abby was always there, making sure she was eating, giving her space, inviting her friends. She didn’t deserve this treatment, and Clarke knew that.  
So after a few seconds of hesitation, she slowly went back to her chair, and waited to hear what she had to say.  
Abby seemed relieved.

“When you father died,” she repeated, “I thought… I thought that if I didn’t think about it, the pain would go away. That I would just forget.”

She stopped, tears in her eyes.

“So I worked even more than I already did. I smiled, I talked to people as if it’d never happened. As if Jake was still alive. And it worked pretty well, at the beginning. It was easy to forget, when I was operating a patient and saving lives.”

Abby crouched down in front of her daughter and took her hands in her hers.

“But when I was home, it felt like I was going to die. The memories, the pain…”

She stopped for a while, maybe because it was too hard to talk. Clarke swallowed, tears forming in her eyes, too.

“What I’m trying to say,” Abby continued, “is that the only way to move on is to face what happened. As long as you’ll be avoiding your past, you won’t be able to think about the future.”

A tear fell on her mother’s cheek, which she immediately wiped away. Abby got up and picked up one of the boxes on the ground. Clarke was completely shaken up by her mother’s words, to the point that she didn’t trust herself to speak.

“Now I don’t know what you’ve been through, baby. But I’m not stupid. I see how hard this is for you. And maybe this is the way to get through this, once and for all.” Abby concluded, her tone reassuring.

She put the box on Clarke’s lap, a sad smile on her lips. She squeezed her hands once more, then went upstairs, leaving her daughter alone. Clarke took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She didn’t expect Abby to say such things. Maybe because they’d never talked about it, Clarke imagined her mother didn’t want to get involved. She was so wrong. She was her mother, after all. Maybe she shouldn’t be surprised.  
She looked down at the box, intrigued. She carefully opened it, but stopped the second she recognized what was in it. Pencils, drawings… and pictures. From almost three years ago. She’d put them in the garage when she’d came back here, and never touched them again. Her heart raced at the thought of her mother finding the box and looking through it. What had she seen? What had she thought? Clarke fought the urge to go and ask her.  
She stayed still, thinking. Abby was right, she couldn’t avoid this forever. She had to be brave. She had to do this for herself.  
She took the first picture out of the box.


	9. The favor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys ! I hope you're doing alright 😊  
Here's the new chapter, definitely my favorite so far. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did.  
I'd also like to mention that this fic was nominated in two different categories in bfwa 2019, and I was also nominated as a new author. I want to thank everyone who nominated me, it is such a honnor and a pleasure. And as always, thank you for your comments and kudos ❤️

** _18/09/2015_ **

_“Hi guys.” _

_“Claaaaarke!” Jasper shouted, excited to see her there. _

_She was the last of the group to arrive at the bar. The Grounders was already very crowded, and the music was loud, so it’d taken her some time to find her friends. They were all gathered around a small table, some of their drinks already empty. Harper came to hug her. _

_“I’m happy you could make it!” _

_Clarke had a lot of work to do, so she wasn’t sure she would be able to come. But it was Friday night, and frankly she deserved to have some fun. So here she was. As she said hi to Monty and Miller, she noticed one of the drinks was untouched and belonged to no one else. She hesitated, then picked it up._

_“Is that for me?” she asks._

_Monty shrugged, the others didn’t care. She took it as a yes and brought it to her lips. They must’ve ordered it for her, knowing she was late. She wouldn’t drink too much though, she had to drive back home. She took a sip, trying to hear what her friends were saying. _

_“That, was my drink.” a voice said on her left, startling her._

_She put the drink down, almost choking on it, then turned around._  
God no_, she thought._  
_Bellamy Blake was standing in front of her. And she’d been sipping _his_ drink. _  
_ Well, it wasn’t entirely her fault. Yes, she knew he was invited. The truth is, they were still very awkward, and she was kinda hoping he wouldn’t be here. But her friends could’ve told her he’d come, and they didn’t. So, yeah. Now she felt so damn ashamed._

_“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” she said, wincing. _

_If she was a bit lucky, he wouldn’t try to kill her and it would be just fine. They’d just recently made peace and she’d ruined it within a few seconds._  
_For a moment, they just stared at each other. She felt ridiculous, not knowing what do. She smiled at him and regretted that immediately. She felt even worse. _Dammit.  
_ She felt Miller getting closer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him frowning. He, too, was worried things would get out of control. He’d been really pissed at them, the first time. Which was understandable._  
_ But to her surprise, Bellamy smiled back._

_“Don’t worry, it’s fine.” he said. _

_Both her and Miller relaxed at those words. Bellamy didn’t hate her. Cool.  
She didn’t have the time to think about anything else to say, because suddenly Harper was grabbing her arm, taking her away from the table. _

_“Come on, Clarke !” she shouted. _

_Clarke didn’t resist, laughing. It gave her a good reason to escape this awkward situation.  
Another song came on, and the two girls started dancing. Or rather, Clarke started jumping everywhere and Harper danced. She was so good at it, her moves fluid and sexy. Clarke didn’t have the same talent, so she would laugh and shake her head and raise her heads until she felt exhausted. She forgot about the real world for a moment, she didn’t know how long. It felt so good. When another song came on, she decided to stop for a while._

_“I’m gonna get a drink!” she shouted at her friend, still dancing. _

_“Okay!”_

_When she came back to their table, a Virgin Mojito in her left hand, she noticed the number of empty drinks had drastically increased. Monty had joined Harper to dance with her, meanwhile Jasper was laughing so much he was crying. Bellamy wasn’t doing better. Seeing them like this made her smile. Miller came to sit next to her, rolling his eyes. _

_“Look how drunk these two are.” he said. _

_“Are you gonna drive them home?” she asked, because he was obviously sober. _

_Miller pointed at Bellamy. _

_“This idiot only. I think Harper is taking care of the other two.” _

_She nodded, relieved to know someone was watching on Monty and Jasper. These two were capable of anything, including taking the car while being completely drunk. _

_“How do _you_ get home?” Miller asked her. _

_She shrugged. _

_“I drove here. I’m not drinking either.” she clarified, raising her alcohol-free cocktail to prove her point. _

_But Miller didn’t seem to hear her. He was staring at something, or rather someone at the other end of the room. She followed his gaze and spotted a young man staring back at him. Something was clearly going on there. Miller put his drink down. _

_“If you’ll excuse me.” he said, and walked toward the guy. _

_Clarke smiled, watching him leave. They were only three people left at the table. Clarke listened to Jasper telling Bellamy about one of his numerous funny high school anecdotes, sipping her drink. She’d finished it by the time Monty and Harper came back, coming in between Clarke and Jasper, pushing her towards Bellamy. As Jasper continued his story – and Monty kept correcting him or adding details – she saw him taking his phone. ‘Gina’ was written on the screen. It took her some time to remember when and where she’d heard that name. She’d been the one he was talking to on the phone, the other day. His girlfriend, probably. Bellamy didn’t answer and put it back in his pocket, a sad look on his face. The same look he had on that day. She frowned. _

_“Rough times ?” she asked. _

_She immediately regretted asking this. She wasn’t his friend. He didn’t know her. She was the last person he would want to talk to. _

_“Yep.” he said. _

_He didn’t seem to mind at all, surprisingly. He took his beer and swallowed what was left of it. Then he put the drink down, but almost spilled another in the process. _

_“But not for long. Or at least, that’s what she tells me…” he mumbled._

_Of course he wasn’t bothered by her question. He was completely drunk, he probably didn’t even realize what he was saying or who he was talking to. Clarke still felt bad, she shouldn’t be hearing this. _  
_But Bellamy didn’t say anything else on the matter. He was suddenly very interested by Monty and Jasper’s debate on who had the idea to have a barbecue in the neighbor’s backyard, in the middle of the night._  
_An hour or two passed. They laughed, they danced, they drank. At some point in the night, Harper leaned toward her, shouting :_

_“We’re going back home!” _

_“Yeah, I’m leaving too!” she said._

_She was tired. Since she’d started her new job, she was used to go to sleep early. She felt like a grandma. She’d resisted until now, but it had been hard. She followed her friend outside, putting her jacket on. She saw Monty and Jasper from afar, already on their way to Harper’s car, stumbling every two steps. She felt too exhausted to catch up with them and say goodbye. They probably wouldn’t remember anyway. _

_“Night!” Clarke said to Harper, hugging her._

_“You too!” _

_Clarke walked back to her car, parked a few meters away, in the opposite direction of Harper’s. It felt good, walking in the night. It was too cold. It was so quiet, so calm compared to the bar. Clarke slowed down her pace, breathing in. Her ears were buzzing after hours in the bar, the music so loud they could barely hear each other at times. She was a few feet away from her car when, seated on a bench, she spotted a familiar figure. _

_“Bellamy?” she said, surprised to find her here._

_She got closer, worried. He seemed completely lost, and sick. His shirt was stained with something. He’d disappeared earlier to go to the bathroom. She’d thought Miller had found him and brought him home. She didn’t think he was out there, alone. _

_“Are you alright?” she asked him. _

_“Yeah…” he said, his voice hoarse. _

_She looked around her, but no Miller to be seen. _

_“Where’s Miller?” _

_Bellamy shrugged. He leaned in and took his head in his hands. She thought he was going to puke, but he just stayed in that position. He was way too drunk to be left alone. She sighed. _

_“Great.” she mumbled._

_She sat beside him, looking at him up and down. He had his jacket, which was great. She found his wallet and his keys inside, and she could see the shape of his phone in the pocket of his jean. She felt relieved, at least he hadn’t lost anything. _

_“I’m gonna call Miller.” She told him, picking up her phone. _

_He was supposed to bring him home. Where the hell was he?  
Beeep. Beeep. Beeep. _

_ “Come on!” she mumbled._

_Beeep. ‘_You have reached Nathan Mil…’  
_She called again. Beeep. Beeep. Beeep. ‘You have reach…”_  
_ She sighed. She took a quick look at Bellamy. He hadn’t move._  
_ She tried again. Once, twice._  
_ No answer._

_“Fuck.” _

_She hung up, thinking. She could go back into the bar to look for him, but she was too scared to leave Bellamy. He was unpredictable, he could do something stupid. She waited for a few minutes, hoping Miller would call her back. But he wasn’t, and Bellamy was drunk, and she was tired. Fuck him. He didn’t leave her choice. _

_“Can you get up?” she asked Bellamy. _

_He mumbled something she didn’t understand, his eyes were closing. _

_“Oh, no, no, no. Come on.” _

_She tried to help him stand up, tugging on his arms. It wasn’t easy, but after a few minutes of struggle he finally got off that bench. He didn’t move for a second. Then he turned around to puke. _

_“Shit.” she said._

_She let him do his thing, still holding his arm to make sure he wouldn’t just collapse. He straightened, looking a bit better. She took a handkerchief out of her purse and helped him watched his face a bit. Then she put his arm around her shoulders and held on his thigh. He was too heavy for her, but the car wasn’t far. She just had to hang on. Bellamy almost fell twice, even though they were walking so slowly Clarke felt like they hadn’t move at all. _

_“Wow. Everything’s… spinning…” Bellamy mumbled. _

_It felt like years before they finally reached her car. She opened the door and helped him get in the passenger seat. She sighed, checking again if Miller had called her back, just in case. He hadn’t. _  
_She didn’t know where Bellamy lived, and she couldn’t ask him cause he’d just fallen asleep in his seat. Suddenly everything felt so complicated._  
_ She bit her lip. Well, she didn’t have many options. She called Miller again._

_“Miller, it’s Clarke.” she said on his voicemail. “You’re not answering your phone and I don’t know where you are, so uh… Just so you know, Bellamy’s with me. And he’s like, really drunk. I’m bringing him at my place. We’ll talk tomorrow. Bye.” _

* * *

**_  
19/09/2015_ **

_Clarke had slept like a baby. She was slowly waking up, her eyes still closed. It had been a dreamless night, it felt like she’d fallen asleep half an hour ago. She opened her eyes a little, then closed them again. She rolled around, she stretched, she yawned, and decided she wasn’t leaving her bed. She was going to enjoy her Saturday morning. As minutes passed, just lying in bed, memories of last night resurfaced. It had been fun. She remembered dancing with Harper, listening to Jasper’s jokes, drinking her Virgin Mojito… She was going through the events of the night in her head, finally reaching the part when she got home. With a drunk Bellamy._  
_Bellamy._  
_ She opened her eyes._

_“Shit.” _

_She got up, fully awake. Maybe, just maybe she’d forgotten he was here. She finally remembered struggling to get him upstairs, helping him lay on the mattress and getting his shirt off. He’d puked on it - just to be clear. She winced, hoping he wasn’t awake already. Because if he was, knowing how drunk he was last night, he wouldn’t recognize the place and panic. This was a situation she would prefer to avoid. She was already dreading his reaction when he would understand _she_ brought him home. She was probably the last person he would want to see after such a night – which was understandable if she was being honest.  
She checked the hour on her phone : 10am. She had a text from Miller, received at 5:06am. _

_‘Sorry, I got distracted. Thank you so much, I owe you one.’ Miller had written._

_Yeah, he fucking did. She was still pissed at him. It was his job, and he didn’t even have a good excuse to give her._  
_Clarke sighed. First, she needed to pee. Then get dressed, cause she was only wearing an old shirt and – even though Bellamy had now officially slept at her place – neither of them was ready for that kind of intimacy._  
_ Once she was done, she went to the kitchen and took two glasses off a shelf. She filled the first one with water and the other with orange juice which she drank in a few gulps. The first glass was for Bellamy. Knowing how drunk he was last night, he was going to have a nasty hangover. She pitied him._  
_ Clarke took an aspirin and the keys in her right hand, the glass of water in her left, and walked across the room to open the front door. She loved her apartment. The kitchen was only separated from the living room by a counter, which gave the impression that the apartment was bigger than it was. She was also proud to say that she was renting it on her own, with her own money. Her mother could’ve helped her get a nicer place, but she wanted to prove herself she could manage just fine._  
_ She had been lucky, though. Around the time she was looking for a new place to live, Jasper’s parents moved out of town and decided to rent their previous apartment. So here she was now, thanks to Jasper who had made sure to make this possible. It felt good to live there. This place had history. It was like it was alive, in a way._  
_ But what Clarke loved the most about all of this, was the room _above_ the apartment. She got out, carefully closing the door behind her. The building was old, it held secrets no one would ever suspect. If Jasper had never shown her, she wasn’t sure she would have found it. On the left of her apartment was an old, wooden door that looked like a closet. Clarke took out of the keys and opened it. Behind it were stairs, leading up to her favorite room ever. _

_‘Welcome to Narnia.’ Jasper’d told her. _

_He wasn’t wrong, it always felt magic to her. Even after all these months. She got up the stairs after closing the door behind her and turning on the light – it was dark and narrow in here. It seemed like the stairs led to nothing at all, only a wooden ceiling. But her hand reached for a trap door above her, and she pushed it open._  
_The light, so bright, blinded her for a second. She went up the last few steps and finally stepped into the room. It was rectangular, about seventeen feet long. The three walls were all painted in white, but you could still see the old stones they were made off. The last wall, on her right, was only made of glass. It started from the floor and reached the roof, inclined. It was so big, the light was illuminating the room all day._  
_ When Clarke first found out about this place, it was almost abandoned. It was too small to actually live in it, so Jasper’s parents were using it as an attic. It was full of old furniture and clothes and toys… The glass was so dirty you couldn’t see much through it. The walls were bare. And it didn’t smell good. She put so much of her time giving a new life to this place. It took months and much more money that she initially thought she would need – but she was dedicated to this project. Fortunately, her friends helped her a lot. She spent her whole summer in this room. Her own little work shop._  
_ But it was worth it. She was so proud; it was everything she ever wanted._  
_ Clarke startled when she heard something moving on her left. She shook her head, getting out of her reverie. Bellamy was still sleeping on the mattress she’d put in a corner of the room, which she was mostly using to read or to watch Netflix when she wanted a break from painting. She’d never slept a full night in it. She didn’t have a pullout downstairs, so she’d brought him here the night before._

_She walked to the mattress, careful not to make too much noise, and put down the glass of water and the aspirin beside the bucket she’d let there – just in case. Bellamy didn’t move. He kept snoring._  
_ She didn't mean to stare, really. But he was sleeping on his side, facing her, his curls all over the place and his lips slightly parted._ _Her eyes went down his face, noticing for the first time his freckles. He looked younger this way, peaceful. It was interesting, she felt like she was discovering a new side of him. A side she wanted to know more about._  
_She should've stopped there. She knew she should've stopped there. But her eyes kept going down, following the freckles on his skin, and soon she was staring at his collarbone, his shoulders, his bare torso. His left arm was positioned in such a way that it emphasized his muscles - his biceps, his pecs. She'd never noticed how well-built he was. As her stare focused on his abs and finally reached the point where all she could see was jeans, she felt her cheeks warmed._  
_Suddenly realizing what she was doing, Clarke got up, ashamed. _Dammit._ He had a girlfriend. What the hell._  
_ But. It wasn't her fault. He was cute. He had_ six-pack_. _

_To get rid of the weird feeling she had in her belly, she decided to get herself busy while waiting for him to wake up. At the back of the room was her personal, favorite mess. Shelves full of jars themselves full of paintbrushes of all size. Paint of every color everywhere. Sketches scattered on a small desk. The easel her mother gave her for her birthday two years ago, a canvas placed on it. Clarke went to sit on the stool in front of it. Painting landscapes was never her thing, she much preferred portraits. Sometimes of people she knew, sometimes of people she imagined. It always took her hours to make them perfect - to get the exact same expression she wanted, the same glint in the eyes. She’d stopped counting the number of times she’d thrown out everything to start again. It could be frustrating, but it always felt thrilling. When she painted, she was in her own world._  
_ Maybe because so many things had changed in her life recently, she’d found herself melancholic. She’d started painting her father. Thinking about him always made her sad, but years had passed since he died. She was able to think about the good memories only and smile when she talked about him. A couple years ago, she wasn’t strong enough to do that._  
_ She picked the pencil she’d left beside the easel, on the desk. She thought for a moment, then started painting._  
_ She didn’t know how long she’d been working on the portrait when she heard a shuffle behind her. She turned around to see Bellamy sitting on the mattress, frowning. She got up._

_“Hi.” she said. _

_She put down her pencil. Bellamy struggled to open his eyes, the light too bright. He brought his hand up to his forehead, wincing. _

_“I brought you an aspirin.” she told him._

_Clarke waited for a moment, but he seemed so lost. He tried to look around him, but his eyes kept closing and opening again and again. She came near him and sat on the ground beside the mattress, handing him the glass and the aspirin. _

_“Here.” she said, calmly. _

_He looked up at her, his eyes squinting. She tensed, wondering if he was pissed at her. She hoped he wasn’t, because after everything she’d done for him she deserved _at least_ a thank you. But he just took the glass off her hand and swallowed the aspirin. _

_“Thank you.” he said, his voice hoarse. _

_“You’re welcome.” _

_She waited for him to feel a bit better. Explaining everything right away would probably be overwhelming for him. When he was fully awake, he would ask her anyway.  
Which he did, after a few minutes. _

_“Where am I?” _

_Clarke looked around her. _

_“You’re uh… You’re at my place. I mean, my apartment is just below this room. I brought you here last night because I couldn’t find Miller.” _

_Bellamy slowly nodded, processing the information. She forced herself to focus on his face. She was _not_ going to stare at his perfect body again. _

_“Miller knows you’re here, by the way.” she clarified. _

_“Okay.” _

_His eyes wondered around the room. She wondered what details he was noticing, what he was thinking. His eyes remained on the portrait for a few seconds, then on the small sink she used to wash her hands after painting. _

_“Is that my shirt?” he asked. _

_She’d forgotten she’d put it there, hanging. She’d meant to wash it but was too tired to do so. Her cheeks flushed. _

_“Uh yeah. You puked on it.” _

_She didn’t want him to think she was some kind of pervert. _

_“Oh.” was all he said._

_He looked down, staring at his hands. He probably still had an awful headache. They stayed silent for a while. Clarke felt awkward sitting there beside him, not doing anything._

_“Do you want anything?” she asked him. _

_He focused his attention back on her, the shadow of a smile on his lips. _

_“No, no, thank you. You’ve done a lot already. Thank you.” he repeated. _

_She felt relieved. At least he was being grateful. He pushed on his arms, trying to get up, but Clarke stopped him. _

_“Wait. You’re probably not feeling well. You can rest a bit if you want.” _

_He deserved it, after all. He sighed, seemingly exhausted, and sat down again. _

_“Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. If you don’t mind.” _

_“Not at all.” she said, smiling at him in a way she hoped was reassuring. _

_She got up, giving him some space. As she walked back to her easel, he suddenly asked : _

_“Who is this?” _

_She turned around. He was staring at the portrait, a gleam in his eyes she couldn’t quite comprehend. The kind of gleam she would love to paint. She was surprised he would ask her that. She didn’t think it would interest him, especially in such a state._

_“It’s my father.” she told him. “He died.”_

_She didn’t know what exactly made her say that, but it came out of her mouth before she could even think about it. She couldn’t control it. She feared she’d said too much, but Bellamy smiled at her. A sad smile, one that was telling her ‘I understand what you came through’. _

_“It’s beautiful.” he said. _

_Her heart sank. Suddenly she couldn’t speak, afraid her voice would break. She just nodded, a sad smile on her lips too. Their eyes locked, and just for a moment it felt like they understood each other beyond word. _  
_The moment ended when Bellamy looked away._  
_ Her heart beating fast in her chest, Clarke turned her back on him and walked to her painting, processing what had just happened. Behind her, she heard Bellamy lie down._  
_A few minutes later, he was sleeping._


	10. The meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi !  
As you could see, the previous chapter was flashbacks only. I won't do that often, but in this case it was necessary. I'm glad you guys enjoyed it 🙂  
Here we come back to the present and things are getting more and more intense. Hope you'll enjoy !  
Thanks for your kudos and comments 😘

**14/02/2019**

Clarke was trying her best not to freak out. She could see the park where she was supposed to meet Bellamy, her heart beating faster as she was getting closer. She was fighting the little voice in her head that was telling her _‘Run in the opposite direction’_. She thought about Abby, who had convinced her to do the right thing. About Raven, who Clarke knew only wanted the best for her, even if she was still pissed at her. About Monty and Harper, who had gladly accepted to let her stay in their house while they were away.  
She hadn’t come all this way just to give everything up.  
She had a plan. If he had questions, she would answer. She wouldn’t lie, or at least she would try not to. She would give him the answers he wanted. But she wouldn’t give him anything else. No more details, no more memories. Only what he needed to know. He wasn’t supposed to be aware of what happened the night of the accident. Officially, she wasn’t even there. Which meant he wouldn’t ask about it.

She would stay a week, maybe two. She would pretend to be interested in his project if she had to. Then she would have the chance to say goodbye, for real. She never had the opportunity to write a proper ending to her story. It had been chaotic, awful. He wouldn’t know how much it all meant for her, but it didn’t matter. It was a way to make peace with her past, while keeping the demons away.  
She would leave, and he would move on. The weight on her shoulders would be lighter. Hopefully it would be enough, and she would move on too.  
But to do that, she had to face him first.  
She finally reached the park, her head buzzing. She was so nervous, she wondered if she was going to throw up. She looked around her, looking for his black curls. When she didn’t see him, she walked a bit further. Children were playing. An old couple was taking a walk. A jogger was drinking water. A guy was sitting on a bench.  
She took a second glance.  
Bellamy was sitting on a bench, waiting for her.  
She turned around before she could even think about doing anything else. She had to leave, _now_. She would go back to Monty and Harper’s house, pick up her suitcase, take a taxi and get into the next plane. She would block his number and act as if nothing happened. She would forbid her friends to tell h…

“Hey!” a voice called behind her.

A voice she knew too well.  
_Fuck, fuck, fuck._  
She kept up her pace. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t do this. It was a mistake. She shouldn’t be there. Panic was taking control of her body.   
He called again.

“Hey!”

She didn’t react and walked faster. Maybe he would let her go. He had to let her go. What else could she do? She had to hide somewhere, pretend she didn’t know who he was…

“Claire.”

He caught her arm. She jolted, not expecting him to catch up with her so fast.  
Too late.  
His touch was gentle, his voice had been calm. He loosened his grip on her arm but didn’t let go of her. He stepped in front of her, forcing her to face him. She was looking down, trying to breathe properly. She could hear her heart beating fast.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She closed her eyes. _Calm down._  
She nodded.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” she said, hoping he wouldn’t notice her voice was trembling.

She clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking. She focused on his plaid shirt. She knew this shirt, she realized. She’d seen him wearing it a few times in the past. The familiarity of it reassured her.

“You sure?”

She had to be more convincing if she didn’t want him to suspect something. She mustered up all her courage and raised her head, looking straight into his eyes. For some reason, she expected to see hate or anger. But there was only kindness. Suddenly, she felt like the Clarke she used to be. She was reminded of what it was like to be his friend, to be by his side almost every day. She felt safe, because it was Bellamy.  
She was with Bellamy, and he didn’t hate her.  
Everything would be fine.

“Yes.” she said, and this time she was telling the truth.

He let go of her arm.

“Great.” he said, relieved. “I thought maybe you’d changed your mind.”

She thought about the message she’d sent him. She didn’t have the guts to call him.  
_‘I’m coming back in town in two days. Maybe we could meet.’_  
And that was it. She’d spent an hour trying to find the words, so at some point she just wrote something and sent it before she could think of deleting it. He answered exactly seven minutes later. They felt like hours as she was pacing back and forth in her room, waiting for her phone to buzz.  
_‘Is Thursday okay for you?’_ he’d said.  
She let him pick the hour and the place. And there she was.

“Oh really?” she said, trying to laugh it off as if she hadn’t been trying to flee a minute ago.

“Yeah.” he laughed. “I’m just uh… I’m just really glad you’re here.”

Her heart skipped a beat. He was being so honest with her. The way he was moving, talking, smiling was just so much… him. And he was looking at her as if she was an angel, a miracle. It was too much to handle.  
She realized how important this was for him. He was not only happy to see her, but he was also hopeful. And it hurt, because she deserved none of this.

“Oh.” was all she said, because she couldn’t come up with something else.

She smiled, though. She didn’t want to be a jerk, but she didn’t want to give him false hopes either. She wasn’t staying for long. But a part a her wished she could stay with him forever, hiding from the others.

“Do you know the neighborhood?” he asked her.

She took a look around.

“Uh… yeah. A bit.”

She knew it pretty well, actually. It wasn’t far from the school she used to work at. She wasn’t lying, really. She just didn’t want to give out too many details.

“Okay, great.” he said, playing with his hair. “I thought maybe we could discuss in a café?”

He indicated a street with his hand, inviting her to follow him. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that anyone could see them there, together. Including people she used to know and who she wanted to avoid at all cost.

“Yeah, sure.”

She followed him, unsure of where he was taking her. She let him show her the way, walking a few feet behind him. It also was a way for her to avoid being too close to him. She still had a hard time controlling her emotions, and the simple fact of having him near her made her nervous. She was afraid of her own reactions.  
After a few minutes though, Bellamy noticed how far behind she was and he slowed down his pace so they could walk side by side. Clarke winced. He was so much like the Bellamy she knew.  
They were silent, but Clarke felt like everything was so loud. She was convinced he could hear a heart beating, her breathing quickening, her mind thinking. She was aware of each of his movements, she could almost feel his arm touching hers.  
She focused on her steps. One, two, three, four…

“Here we are.” he said.

He pointed at a small café at the end of the street. She noticed his other hand playing with the strap of his bag, and it suddenly occurred to her that he might also be anxious. He smiled at her, as if looking for her approval. That’s when she noticed the flower shop behind him.  
Her heart sank.  
She knew exactly where he was taking her. She’d been there before, countless of times. With him. She’d been so distracted she hadn’t realized where they were going.

“Do you… Do you come here often?” she asked him.

She’d stopped walking, a bit shocked. She wasn’t expecting this.

“Uh…” he said, confused. “Not really.”

Seeing she still wasn’t moving, he frowned.

“But I walk past it almost every day. My apartment is a few streets away.” he added.

So it meant he didn’t remember. But out of all the cafés in the city, this was the one he chose. This couldn’t be a coincidence. It scared the shit out of her.

“Okay.” she said and started walking again.

When they arrived, she was surprised to see how much it had changed. The furniture wasn’t the same. She didn’t recognize the employees. It made sense, obviously. A lot of things can happen in more than two years. She should know that.  
They went to sit at a small table by the window. It was so casual and so familiar, yet so strange. Everything looked like a copy of what used to be, but at the same time it felt completely different.  
They didn’t wait long to order something, which was convenient for Clarke because it gave her a reason not to look at Bellamy, seated in front of her. She ordered a cappuccino. Then it was Bellamy’s turn.  
_A black coffee_, she thought. _No sugar._

“A black coffee.” he only said.

“No sugar.”

_Shit._  
It’d just… came out of her mouth. She didn’t have the time to think. What an idiot. He used to say that all the time, it felt weird not to say it. She was mortified. She couldn’t look at him.

“Uh, yeah?” he said.

She could hear the surprise in his voice. _Fuck._ She messed up. Ugh.  
She avoided his gaze, waiting for her hot drink. Her heart was beating fast again. Being with Bellamy was fucking draining. She felt exhausted. And she hated herself. When they both got their drinks, she focused on hers, blowing on it. God, she felt so stupid.

“So.” he said. “You’re an artist.”

She took a quick look at him, not daring to raise her head. She felt so ashamed. She wondered what he was thinking.

“Yeah.” she said.

“Okay.”

She glanced at him again, a bit longer this time. He was smiling. Not only that, but there was amusement in his eyes. This idiot.  
He thought the situation was _funny_.

“So, what is it that you wanted?” she said, hoping she was sounding confident.

The least she could do was trying to look like everything was fine and she knew what she was doing. By taking the control of the conversation, she would feel more secure. She forced herself to look at him. It worked, he was suddenly very serious.

“I…” he started.

He picked up his bag and opened it. For a moment he just stared at it, frowning. He seemed hesitant. She waited for him to take something out of it, but he didn’t move. He clenched his jaw. Then he locked eyes with her. His stare was so intense she couldn’t look away. He put the bag aside.

“I’m gonna be honest with you.” he declared.

She felt panic took over her body again. What did he mean? She watched him take something out of his pocket and put it on the table. She couldn’t see what it was, his hand was still hiding it.

“I wanted to talk to you for a reason. And I’m going to ask you to be honest with me, too.” he said.

He removed his hand from the table. Clarke took a breath, slowly losing control to her emotions. She was surprised to discover a small piece of paper. She was more confused than ever. She slowly reached for it, trying to keep her hands from shaking. It was fragile and old, it’d been folded again and again. She unfolded it.  
When she was six, she’d fallen of a tree. She remembered the shock was so brutal she couldn’t breathe for a few seconds.  
It was exactly how she felt when she saw the drawing, only ten times worse. She froze.  
_No._ It was impossible.

“Do you see the letters at the back?”

She saw her hands turn the paper around, as if she was just a witness. She felt completely disconnected. She barely registered anything when she read _‘I see you. C.G.’_. No. No.  
The painting. The letters. He knew.

“You drew this, didn’t you ?” he asked.

But she couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t even move. It was not happening. She was dreaming. She was going to wake up.  
He reached for her hand. She startled.

“Hey.” he said, his tone reassuring.

With his other hand, he carefully took the drawing of her grip and put it beside him. She looked at him, completely lost. He leaned in, staring intensely at her. He sighed.

“We knew each other.” he said.

And it wasn’t a question or a thought. It was a statement. Because Bellamy Blake had figured it out. Everything had changed. Her plan was ruined.  
She nodded, closing her eyes.

“Claire.” he said, and she wished he’d called by her real name. “I need to know more. Please.”

It was too late. She couldn’t just pretend nothing happened anymore. She’d made too many mistakes. It was Bellamy. She knew he wouldn’t let her go until she’d told him the truth. Or at least, the truth he wanted to hear.

“Okay.” she finally said. “But I need you to promise me something in return.”

She heard him sighed, relieved.

“Sure.” he said.

She opened her eyes and raised her head.

“Don’t tell anyone.”


	11. The café

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys !  
So sorry for the wait, I was very busy last week and I couldn't find the time to post this sooner 😅  
I just want to thank you all for your comments on the last chapter. They're all heartwarming ❤️  
And obvisouly, thank you so much for the kudos also !  
I know many of you want to know everyhing that happened between them, and you will - you just need a bit more patience. 😉 You will discover a bit more with each chapter.  
Enjoy !

**14/02/2019**

“I’m sorry.” She said. “It’s hard for me to talk about it.”

She’d been trying to find the words. She didn’t know where to start, what she should or shouldn’t tell him. She would lose herself in her own memories, one thought leading to another.  
Bellamy was being so patient with her, even though she could see it was all very confusing to him. Her behavior probably didn’t make any sense, she acted so weirdly.  
He’d promised her he would keep everything to himself, but it was still difficult to let go of her fear. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him, but Bellamy didn’t know _why _she’d asked him this. Why wouldn’t he tell Octavia about her? She was just an acquaintance, at this point. There was nothing wrong with that. Except, she was Clarke Griffin, and if he talked too much Octavia or Miller or someone else would guess. She preferred not to think about what would happen then.  
Her fake name was her only real protection. She could hide behind it. She would also try to reassure herself, by imaging what her friends would tell her. Monty, Harper, Jasper, Raven… she knew they would encourage her, if they were there with her. They’d always been by her side, even after everything. She wasn’t alone.

“Maybe you could tell me about how we met?” Bellamy suggested, his voice calm.

She considered it. But if she told him she was an art teacher at the same school he used to work at, he would make the connection with Miller. He would ask him about her. Clarke couldn’t let that happen.

“At a party.” she just said, because she was too afraid to give anything else away.

She wasn’t good at this. How frustrating it probably was, for Bellamy. She couldn’t give him the answers he was waiting for. She sighed. Her eyes landed on the painting behind him. It was very simplistic, just a few brush strokes. She’d never seen it before, it was most probably bought in some store. The chairs weren’t the same either. The walls were in a different color. Clarke suddenly found herself noticing every detail that had changed in the café, and she couldn’t stop but imagine her old self, with another Bellamy, in this same room three years ago. She could see, in her head, the small table in the corner. She could visualize Bellamy smiling at her, his notebooks all around her. It was so vivid it hurt.

“We used to come here.” she said.

She didn’t immediately realize she’d said it at loud. It felt so natural to say this, because it was… obvious to her. It was the truth. But, contrary to what she would’ve expected, she didn’t feel the familiar panic growing inside of her chest, making her regret ever pronouncing those words. Afterall, she’d kept all those memories to herself for so long. It felt good to just let it out.  
She _wanted_ him to know. She wanted him to laugh and cry with her as she would tell him about everything they’d been through – the good and the bad. Because a part of her, even if she hated to admit it, still hoped she could find _her _Bellamy again.  
But as long as she remained Claire Graham, it would never happen.

“We did?” Bellamy asked her.

She heard the eagerness to know more in his voice. She felt the intensity of his stare. She was well aware that he was hanging on her every word, on every piece of information she would give him. She met his gaze, and once again was overwhelmed by how much kindness she saw in his eyes. She knew him well enough to know he was trying to hide his nervous, as if to reassure her. This thought alone broke her heart, because he behaved as he would three years ago. As if she was his friend, as if he understood her. Even though, in reality, she was no one to him.  
For the first time, she thought about telling him everything. Everything.  
Because he deserved it.  
But not yet.

“Yeah.” she said. “We used to meet here and eat together. Everyday.”

* * *

** _24/09/2015_ **

_Clarke didn’t intend to linger, really.  
She just wanted a coffee. She was supposed to drink it and be gone in five minutes. She should be eating a sandwich in the park, waiting for the rest of the hour to pass before going back to work.  
But, well.  
The café was crowded when she arrived. For some reason she thought only a few people knew about the place. She shouldn’t be surprised, she obviously wasn’t the only one working in the neighborhood. It was the first time she was coming here, but she’d spotted the café weeks ago. Well, now she knew what to expect.  
She sighed, searching for somewhere to seat. She didn’t have much time to eat before her next class, which was very inconvenient. She didn’t feel like driving back home to cook and, most of all, she needed a coffee. So the café will do. She scanned the room, looking for at least a free chair, but most of the tables were taken by groups of friends, and sitting next to them would just be awkward. Her eyes finally landed on a small table in the corner, covered of notebooks. A man was writing on one of them, his black curls hiding his face. _What a mess,_ she thought. The guy didn’t seem to care at all. If was so fully invested in what he was doing that probably nobody dared to disturb him. _  
_He straightened, frowning._  
‘Oh.’ _Clarke thought._  
_ Bellamy._  
_ Maybe she could sit with him. He knew her, so he wouldn’t refuse. Right?_  
_ She froze, not knowing what to do. He seemed busy and determined to finish whatever he was doing. She didn’t want to bother him, but it was one of the only seats available. Maybe he wouldn’t mind if she only stayed for 5 minutes. She would be quick, silent. Hopefully, she wouldn’t annoy him too much._  
_ She walked towards him, putting on what she hoped was a warm smile on her face. The least she could do was to act cool. No big deal. She just wanted a coffee._  
_ She was a few feet away from the table when some girl suddenly got in her way, making Clarke stop abruptly. The girl didn’t even apologize and quickly grabbed the chair in front of Bellamy._

_“Is this chair available?” she asked, feigning innocence. _

‘No, can’t you see it’s already taken, you idiot?’_ Clarke wanted to say, just so spite her. What the fuck. There was no need to be so rude. She could’ve just asked nicely.   
Clarke was about to search for another table when Bellamy looked up, clearly not pleased to be interrupted. She could feel his frustration radiating from him, which was a bit frightening. But he wasn’t doing anything to hide it. He stared at the girl, his fist clenching around his pen. He seemed to be thinking, probably looking for a good excuse not to let that girl sit with him. Then his eyes landed on Clarke. For a second she felt weird, just standing there. If he was surprised to see her there, he barely showed it. His attention went back to the girl in front of him, a polite smile on his lips. _

_“I’m sorry.” he said. “I was waiting for someone.” _

_And he pointed at Clarke.  
The girl turned around to face her, pursing her lips. Clarke, who’d absolutely not expected Bellamy to say that, couldn’t hide her shock. She closed her mouth, realizing she’d been gaping at him. Then she put a big, fake smile on her face dedicated to the irritating girl and took her time to sit on the chair, playing along with Bellamy’s plan. The girl didn’t move at first, but she left after a few seconds, obviously offended. Both Clarke and Bellamy were savoring their victory. _

_“Hey.” Clarke said. “Thank you.”_

_“Thank _you_. She seemed unbearable.” Bellamy growled. _

_“Well, I was just at the right place at the right time.” _

_Bellamy smiled – a tiny movement at the corners of his lips - then picked up a pen and wrote something down. It was as if he’d already forgotten she was there. She waited for him to finish his sentence before she spoke again. _

_“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you for long. I’m just here for a coffee.” _

_“Oh.” he said, looking up. “You’re not going to eat?”_

_She shrugged. _

_“I usually pick up a sandwich somewhere and eat in a park or something.” _

_Bellamy nodded, then started rummaging through his stuff, looking for something. She laughed when he pulled out the small menu of the café under one his papers. _

_“Here. You’ve got some sandwiches and salads if you want. I’d recommend the salads.” he said, grinning._

_He was much more comfortable with her than she expected, after the other night. They hadn’t really talked since he’d slept at her apartment. Maybe because he felt a bit ashamed, or maybe because he thought he’d been a bother to her. _

_“Do you often come here?” she asked him._

_He brought his right hand up to his head and started playing with his hair._

_“Uh, every day, actually.”_

_“Alone?” _

_“Most of the time, yeah.” _

_She nodded. She’d imagined Bellamy was the kind of guy always surrounded by friends. It turned out he was more of a loner than she expected. They remained silent for a few minutes, not knowing what else to say. Clarke found herself noticing the freckles on his face, details she hadn’t paid attention to before that morning in her workshop. Bellamy locked eyes with her at that very moment, and she suddenly felt like a teenager. _‘Idiot’_, she thought._

_“Anyway,” he said, “I just wanted to thank you again for the other night. That was nice of you.”_

_He looked down, which confirmed her suspicions: he was embarrassed. It was understandable, they barely knew each other and she’d seen him in a very… miserable state. _

_“Don’t worry, it’s fine. We’ve all been there.” _

_She smiled, hoping he would feel better. If she’d been drunk and Bellamy had found her, she would feel the same. Plus, she knew he had a girlfriend, and he’s literally slept at another woman’s apartment. Maybe that was also one of the reasons he felt a bit uncomfortable. She thought about his call and what he’d said of Gina – if that was her name. She remembered his apology, after the night their first met. ‘I was having a hard day.’ She wouldn’t ask him about it – she didn’t know him enough – but she had a feeling Bellamy was having many hard days recently. Maybe having some company would actually please him. _

_“You know what? I think I’m going to take one of their salads.” she said._

* * *

_From that day on, they ate together at the café every day. Sometimes they didn’t even speak. But other times, they would talk about everything and nothing at all. He would tell her about History, his sister, his childhood. She would tell him about her dad, Wells, her passion for painting - which he’d obviously noticed. They could complain about their day to one another, and if they wanted to work on something instead, they would. Every day Clarke would pass by that flower shop, come into the café and spot Bellamy. He was always in the same corner, at the same table. He would smile or wave at her, and it just felt so casual. _

_ After a week, she asked him about all of his notebooks. He told her about his project. He’d been working on a book for years. It was about Gods and Goddesses inspired by mythology, a subject she discovered he was passionate about. He didn’t give out many details, but he could’ve keep it all to himself. Instead, he let her see a part of his world.  
There were days where she could see exhaustion on his face. His jaw was clenched, and he didn’t seem to be able to concentrate enough to write something. She would ask _‘are you okay?’_ and he would say _‘yes’_ so she wouldn’t insist, because if he wanted to talk about it he would. But she still wished she could do something to help him, to make him smile a bit. She always wondered what exactly made him so sad._  
_Then he would come back the next day, and it was as if nothing happened. But she wasn’t blind, she knew something was up._

_“I think we can say we’re friends now. Right?” she asked him, one day. _

_Bellamy smiled, and nodded. _

_“Yeah, I think we can say that.” _

_But he never, ever talked about Gina. _

* * *

** _09/10/2015_ **

_Bellamy wasn’t there.  
He was nowhere to be seen. It was surprising, it’d never happened before. ‘Something must’ve come up’ she thought, and went to sit at their usual table only to find it occupied by someone else. She found somewhere else to sit and sent a message to Bellamy. _

‘The table was taken. I’m on the right. When are you coming?”

_She waited half an hour before she ordered her salad. She was hungry. _  
_After 45 minutes, she ordered a cappuccino. She checked her phone, but still nothing._  
_She texted him again a few minutes later._  
_ When a full hour passed, she got her computer out of her bag and started working._  
_ She waited an hour and half._  
_ He never came._

* * *

** _10/10/2015_ **

**Text Message  
**Today : 11:52 AM

_‘What happened? Are you okay?’_

Today : 3:45 PM

_‘Why aren’t you answering my texts? Have you lost your phone or something?’ _

Today : 7:01 PM

_‘Are you coming to the café on Monday?’_

* * *

** _11/10/2015_ **

**Text Message  
**Today : 1:18 PM

_‘Bellamy, I’m getting worried. What is it about? Did I do something wrong?’_

Today : 5:49 PM

_‘I just hope everything’s fine.’ _

_She sighed, putting the phone beside her. She couldn’t help but wonder why he wouldn’t tell her anything. Did he just not care? It’d been two days, and still no response.  
She wished she didn’t feel so disappointed. _

* * *

** _12/10/2015_ **

_“Finally.” she said as greeting, clearly pissed. _

_She let her bag fall heavily on the table in front of her.  
He’d finally come back to the café, as if nothing happened. No text, no call, nothing. He owed her a fucking explanation.  
She was about to show him how irritated and hurt she was, the word already forming in her head and her fists clenching, when she noticed the sadness in his eyes.  
_Again_, she thought. _  
_After an hesitation, she sat, sighing._

_“I’m sorry. It’s just, uh… I was very busy…” he said._

_He was struggling to find the words. He seemed so tired, her anger immediately dissipated. She didn’t have the heart to start an argument. _

_“Are you gonna tell me what’s happening?” she asked him instead. _

_She tried to sound calm, comprehensive. She hoped he would feel comfortable enough to talk to her. But he remained silent, playing with one of his pens. Clarke waited. Maybe he needed some time to think. After a few minutes, it became obvious he had no intent to share more with her. So she got her computer out of her bag, deciding she was going to get some work done and try to forget how upset she was. He wouldn’t talk to her anyway. She wondered if he ever would, and it hurt because she felt ready to tell him about very personal things, but he obviously wasn’t. _

_“Gina came back on Friday.” _

_Clarke looked up, her eyes widening with shock. It was the first time he’d even say her name. She thought he would stay silent for the rest of the hour, as he often did when he felt down. But for some reason, he’d talked. Clarke didn’t know why, but it didn’t matter. Slowly, she closed her computer and put it aside, then joined her hands on the table. _  
_It was now or never._  
_ He needed this._

_“Okay.” she said. _

_“She’s my girlfriend.” he added._

_She nodded. Until then she didn’t know for sure. _

_“That’s why I couldn’t come. I forgot to warn you, I’m sorry.” _

_She felt bad, hearing this. He wasn’t meaning to annoy her, of course he wasn’t. He had no reason to apologize to her._

_“Bellamy, look at me.” _

_He’d sounded so remorseful, she couldn’t let that happen. He had to know she was there for him, that she didn’t blame him. He had to feel supported, whatever he was going through. Her eyes finally locked with his, and she smiled at him. _

_“It’s fine.” _

_Without thinking, she took his hand – it was so warm. He didn’t take it awat, but she felt him froze at the contact. He looked down at their joined hands, frowning._  
_She immediately let go of him. She didn’t mean to embarrass him, all she wanted was for him to feel supported. It such a simple gesture, but maybe it was already too much._  
_ Bellamy stayed silent. She wished she knew what he was thinking, ‘cause now she didn’t know what to do. For a few minutes, none of them talked. Clarke winced, hoping she hadn’t ruined the moment._

_“Shouldn’t you be happy that she came back?” she finally asked him._

_She couldn’t stand this weird tension between them. She had to say something, even if he wouldn’t answer. _

_“Sometimes, I...” he started, which was a good sign._

_He sighed. She patiently waited - she didn’t want to rush him. He was looking down again, avoiding her gaze. It was hard for him to talk about this, she could feel it. The words didn’t come out easily. He started a few sentences that had no ending. _

_“She was away for a month. It’s just complicated.” he said. _

_Clarke nodded. _‘It’s complicated’_ meant ‘_I don’t want to explain what’s going on’_, which meant she wouldn’t know anything more. She pursed her lips, frustrated in spite of herself.  
Fuck it._

_“Bellamy, are you happy?” she asked. _

_She’d wanted to ask this for a while, but never dared until then. _

_“Yeah.” he immediately responded. _

_It was a lie. Both of them knew that. _  
_She sighed, leaning back in her chair. It was too late. The moment was over. Bellamy was back to his old ways._  
_ But she couldn’t blame him. She’d been there before. She knew what it was like._

_“Well, if you want to talk about it, I’m here. Okay?” she only said._

_He nodded – a tiny, tiny smile in the corners of his lips.  
Maybe one day she would know the truth. But she would have to wait until he was ready. _


	12. The picture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys ! Here's the new chapter. Hope you'll like it ! 😊  
Things will speed up a little next chapter... 😏  
Thanks for the kudos and comments ❤️

**16/02/2019**

_“Bellamy.”_

_The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t quite recognize it. Everything was blurred, he felt completely lost. He was seated somewhere, it was dark. _

_“Bellamy.” the voice repeated. _

_He finally realized he was in a car, on the passenger seat. It was night outside. He had a strange feeling. _

_“Bellamy.” _

_The voice was coming from his left. He turned around to see who was talking to him, but it was like he couldn’t focus on what he was doing. He knew someone was beside him, but couldn’t tell who it was. He felt a hand on his arm._

_“Bellamy” the woman said again. _

_Suddenly, he recognized it. This time when he looked in her direction, he saw her face clearly. Her brown curls around her face, a sad smile on her lips, softness in her eyes._

_“Gina.” he said._

_ “Bellamy, you need to listen.”_

_“What?”_

_He didn’t understand what she was trying to say. Everything was so confusing. He could see light behind her, getting brighter each minute. He looked around him.  
Panic took control of his body when he realized where and when they were. He couldn’t remember it, but he knew what was about to happen._

_“Gina, the car!” he screamed at her. _

_But she didn’t react. _

_“Bellamy, you need to listen.” she told him again._

_“Gina!_

_He could see the headlights behind her, coming closer and closer. _

_“Get out of the car!” he screamed again. _

_“Bellamy…”_

_“Behind you!” _

_They were getting closer, faster._

_“Listen. Why won’t you listen?” she said._

_He couldn’t breathe. Gina kept repeating the same words again and again, as if she couldn’t hear him._

_“Gina! The car!” _

_“Why won’t you listen Bellamy? Listen to me!” _

_The light was blinding him. _

_“Gina!” _

_“Listen!” _

_A klaxon. White everywhere. Boom. _

Bellamy woke up, sweating. He straightened on his bed, breathing heavily. He was so hot he had to take his shirt off. It took a few minutes to calm down, slowly realizing he was okay, it wasn’t real.

“Just a dream.” he told himself.

But was it? It seemed so real, so vivid. He didn’t remember the accident, nor anything that happened before. He’d dreamed of Gina more times than he could count, so that wasn’t new. He would be reliving a memory of her he did remember, or he’d made up a scene where he could talk to her and ask her for forgiveness. But he’d never, ever dreamed of that night.  
He couldn’t shake the weird feeling he had. It was as if he’d just talked to a ghost. His body was still shaking, and he was now getting cold. He got up, put another shirt on, and went to the kitchen to have a glass of water. His throat was dry.  
He’d been living in a small apartment for the past two years. During the first few months after his accident, he’d been at Octavia’s. He was hurt, depressed and amnesic. Sometimes he would just walk around the house, lost in his thoughts. He would have panic attacks in the middle of the night. He would tell himself _‘You’re Bellamy Blake. You’re 28. You have a sister, Octavia. Your mother was Aurora Blake, she died. Your best friend is Miller. You were a History teacher. Your girlfriend was Gina Martin, she died in a car accident’_. And he would start all over again until he was convinced he wasn’t crazy. Sometimes it could last for hours.  
Octavia still passed by every week. He was much better, fortunately. But he hated going to bed, because he could never really sleep in peace. He was used to getting up in the middle of night. When he couldn’t go back to sleep, he would watch documentaries, or he would read. Which he was probably going to do tonight. He used to do puzzles, because the doctor insisted it was good for him. Bellamy had like, eight different puzzles. He would tell his doctor he was still doing them, but in reality he couldn’t care less.  
He sat on the couch and turned the TV on. He found a documentary on the Roman Empire, one he’d seen four times already. He sighed, checking the hour on his phone. 4:12am. About 10 hours before he could see Claire again, he calculated.  
In almost three years, he’d never felt so alive. Meeting Claire was the best thing that had happened to him. How he spent his days, who he would talk to, where he would go, what he would see… it’d all been the same for so long, and suddenly this girl was changing everything. He knew in his heart she had the answers he was looking for. Little details, like her knowing he didn’t take sugar with his coffee, were only confirming his suspicions. He also knew she had secrets he couldn’t wait to discover, even if it scared him. She was a mystery. But at the same time, she had this awkwardness he couldn’t help but find funny. And she didn’t look at him with pity, she just looked sad most of the time. He couldn’t understand why, at least not yet.  
He knew he had to be patient with her. The drawing seemed like it was lot to take for her already, so he didn’t tell her about the hospital. Maybe she would bring it up on her own, and explain why she’d come to see him after the accident. He wasn’t planning on telling anyone about their ‘meetings’ – Octavia and his friends were constantly checking on him and for once he was doing something on his own – but he wondered why she wanted this to remain a secret. One more mystery.  
Bellamy leaned in his couch, trying to focus on the documentary. But his mind kept coming to his dream, or rather his nightmare. He kept hearing Gina’s words _‘Listen! Why won’t you listen?’_. He could still see the headlights getting closer behind her, and that image alone made him shiver. It didn’t make sense. What did she want to tell him? What was he supposed to listen to? He spent half an hour just wondering about it, until he felt the need to see her face. He could find the box full of all pictures he kept somewhere in his apartment, but he would have to rummage through all of his stuff. Instead, he did something which was very unusual of him : he went on Facebook. His old computer took some time to load the page, but finally he was able to go through his (very few) pictures on his profile. He didn’t find much, as expected. He only had one small, blurry photo of him and Gina. Octavia had commented on it – so he went on her profile instead. She was much more used to social media than he was.  
He scrolled down her page, then he wanted to see more. A few minutes later he’d gone on four different profiles and had seen many photos of his friends. He felt a bit weird, doing that. He didn’t want to seem like he was spying on them, even if they wouldn’t know. But sometimes he just needed to see what he couldn’t remember. As he was going through Jasper’s photos, one of them caught is eye. It was during a Halloween party. He smiled, discovering himself dressed up as a vampire, clearly feeling uncomfortable. He was frowning, looking at something behind the camera. Beside him where Jasper and Monty, laughing. He almost didn’t recognize Gina next to him, a big pirate hat hiding her face in part. Her smile was so big. Seeing her like this felt so good but hurt so bad at the same time. She didn’t deserve to die so young. Bellamy sighed. Beside Gina was Harper, her arm around someone’s shoulders. Someone with blond hair and a ponytail, almost completely out of the photo except for a face.  
Bellamy froze.  
Claire was standing there, just beside Harper and him and Gina. He looked at the date : 31th October 2015. Three years and a half ago. He went through the comments and the tags, hoping to find her name somewhere, but there was nothing. He typed her name in the search bar, but couldn’t find any profile that would correspond to her. He couldn’t believe it. He needed to know more.  
Claire knew Gina.

*****

“So, are you still pissed at me?” Raven said as she answered her phone.

Clarke was a few meters away from the café, trying to buy time before she had to face Bellamy again. She still wasn’t used to the situation, and Bellamy knowing so much was a lot to handle. She kept changing her mind every two minutes.

“A bit.” Clarke admitted.

She needed someone to talk to. Someone to tell her that she was making the right decision, or on the contrary that she had to leave now. Raven was this person for her, even if she still hadn’t completely forgiven her.

“Yeah, that’s understandable.” Raven said.

Clarke smiled in spite of herself. It felt good to hear her friend’s voice.

“I’m in Arkadia.” she told her.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You do?”

That was surprising, she’d never told anyone aside of Abby. _Oh. _

“My mom told you, didn’t she?” Clarke guessed.

“She just wanted to let me know, since you wouldn’t talk to me. I’m a little offended that she could convince you to go and I couldn’t, by the way.”

“Well, she didn’t force me into it.” Clarke said, maybe a bit too harshly.

Raven stayed silent on the phone for a while. Clarke bit her lip and sighed. This isn’t the way she wanted the conversation to go.

“Okay.” Raven said. “Again, I’m sorry Clarke. I won’t do this again. I genuinely thought it would be good for you.”

“Yeah, okay. I know.” Clarke said, trying to sound calm.

She would forgive her one day, just not yet.

“Listen, I… I don’t know what to do.” Clarke started.

“What do you mean?”

“I just… I can’t think. Like, it’s a fucking mess in my head. I’m stressing all the time, cause I can’t do or say anything without thinking about the consequences, but at the same time I feel like I have to do this.”

Raven stayed silent for a while. Clarke wished she could see her face. She wondered if she was frowning or pursing her lips or rolling her eyes. Maybe none of these things.

“So you talked to him? To Bellamy?” she asked Clarke.

“Yeah.” Clarke sighed. “And he knows so much more than I excepted. I’m not sure I can do this.”

“Clarke, listen.” Raven said, very serious. “You’re the strongest person I know. You survived so much. You lost your dad. You lost Wells. You met fucking _Finn_.”

Clarke laughed, but tears were in her eyes.

“But, It was good thing in the end since you met me.” Raven continued.

“True.”

This. That was why she’d called Raven. Because she could put a smile on her face in a minute, and motivate her to do what is right.

“And… I don’t know what happened to you two years ago. But I saw you get up every day, even if you felt like the shittiest person in the world, and try to get your life together.”

Her tear fell on Clarke’s cheek, deeply moved. She couldn’t talk. Raven words felt so good to hear.

“So, yeah. You can do this. And you fucking have to do this, Clarke, cause I’m tired of seeing you unhappy.”

Clarke took a breath and cleared her throat before she spoke again.

“But… If I tell him everything… the consequences…”

“Oh my god, fuck the consequences.” Raven said, exasperated.

Clarke rolled her eyes. It was so Raven-like. But it worked, because she felt better. She felt… strong.

“For once in your life, think about yourself. You deserve it.” Raven concluded.

*****

Clarke took the time to dry her tears and regain her composure before she entered the café. Bellamy was already there, seated at a table on the right, looking at his phone. For a second she didn’t move, only looked at him. He was so beautiful it hurt. She smiled when he tried to move one of curls from his eyes, and it fell back on his face immediately. He frowned and finally looked up, locking eyes with her. He smiled, and she went to sit in front of him. She noticed he already had ordered a coffee.

“Sorry, I’m late.” she told him.

“Don’t worry. It’s fine.”

His stare went down her face, and she wondered if he could guess she’d been crying. She held her breath, waiting for him to say something. He stayed silent for so long she wondered if he was actually looking at her of if he was just lost in his thoughts once again. Finally, he put his phone down.

“How do you feel?” he asked her.

So he _had_ noticed something was up. Clarke looked down, avoiding his gaze.

“Great.” she said.

She was used to it - pretending everything was fine when she felt like the shittiest person in the world. She’d been doing this almost every day for two years and a half.  
But Bellamy didn’t just look at her, he saw her. So, of course he knew she was lying. He sighed.

“I know what it’s like.” he told, his voice reassuring.

His words convinced her to look up. She tilted her head to the side, waiting for him to continue.

“People expect you to be fine all the time. At some point you just give up trying to explain how you really feel.” he said, frowning, as if it reminded him of bad memories.

He leaned towards her. Suddenly, Clarke was very aware of how intimate the moment was, with just the two of them seated at this small table, so close to each other. Her heart beat faster in her chest.

“I just-.” he continued. “I want you to feel fine, cause I feel… _great_ when I’m with you. I don’t know why, exactly, but I do. And that’s not a lie.” he added, the corners of his mouth slowly moving into a faint smile.

She realized how worried Bellamy was. He was afraid she would leave once again, that it was all because of him. He needed to know she was there for him, as he was for her. Until then, she’d never let her guard down. But seeing how open he was with her… _‘Fuck the consequences’_.

“Bellamy.” she said, determined. “I’m fine, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He sighed, obviously relieved.  
They remained silent after that. She noticed his gaze kept coming back to his phone then to her face again. He apparently was having one of those moments where he’d be completely lost in his own thoughts. He seemed unreachable, almost absent. But she could see in his eyes that his mind was racing, and she didn’t why exactly. She ordered a cappuccino, waiting for him to be ready to talk.  
A few minutes later, he put his phone down on the table.

“I’d like to ask you something.” he said.

He seemed… hesitant, almost nervous. She frowned, suddenly worried. She knew he would ask questions, she was trying to get used to that, but it was his behavior that was intriguing.

“Yes?”

“I, uh…” he started.

He picked up his phone again, but didn’t turn it on.

“Did you know Gina?” he blurted out.

_Gina._  
In two years and a half, Clarke’d never heard her name. She’d never pronounce it either, but it was always in the back of her mind - just like Bellamy’s. Sometimes Gina was the only thing Clarke could think about, and during those days the guilt and the shame would swallow her whole, so she wouldn’t come out of her room because living was so fucking hard. She’d never talked about her to Raven or Abby or anyone else – even Jasper, Monty and Harper – not only because she didn’t want to, but because she felt like she didn’t even deserve to say her name. One time, she’d had a panic attack because she’d seen a woman who looked like her. She would dream about that night, asking Gina forgiveness over and over again. She was the reason why Clarke couldn’t tell Bellamy everything.  
So yeah, she knew Gina.  
Clarke swallowed, hoping Bellamy wouldn’t notice the shock she felt when she heard Gina’s name. She opened her mouth so say something, but nothing came out. She clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking, and nodded.

“Okay.” Bellamy said, kindly.

He focused back on his phone. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but he seemed like he was looking for something. Then he looked up and smiled at her, probably trying to reassure her. He put the phone in front of her. Clarke had an awful feeling of déjà-vu, when he’d shown her the drawing. She braced herself for whatever she was going to discover.

“I found this.” Bellamy said.

Clarke looked closely, taking the phone in her hands. It was a picture on Facebook, apparently. At first, she didn’t even recognize everyone – she only saw the costumes and was wondering why he would show her this. But then she saw Bellamy’s face, and Jasper’s and the others. The realization finally hit her when she saw Gina’s face under the big pirate hat, and hers in the corner. The Halloween party. It felt like another, alternative life. As if it’d all been a dream.  
Clarke sighed.

“I met her that night.” she declared, her voice low.

* * *

** _31/10/2015_ **

_Clarke smiled as she went to the table where she’d left her drink, out of breath. She’d just played and lost at Guitar Hero - her opponent was way too good at this game - and her Buffy costume was sticking to her skin, but she felt good. She’d laugh and dance a lot, her friends encouraging her.  
They were all at Miller’s. She didn’t know everyone, but Monty and Jasper had introduced her to many of them. She’d met this Murphy guy Bellamy had told her about multiple times. They didn’t even talk to each other directly, but she could see he was kinda a douchebag. _‘He has a good side, though’_ Bellamy would say about him. Well, he didn’t show it. _  
_Speaking of Bellamy, she’d been there for an hour and she still hadn’t seen him. She looked around her, searching for his brown curls somewhere in the crowd, but she only spotted Harper waving at her, a big smile on her face. Clarke smiled back and raised her glass. She was about to go to her, when she heard a voice on her left._

_“You did great.” _

_Clarke turned around and was surprised to find her previous opponent - a beautiful woman with long, brown curls and warm eyes. They didn’t actually know each other, they’d never even really talked aside from the teasing they would throw at each other during the game. At first, Clarke was supposed to be joined by Jasper until he somehow disappeared, and this woman came out of nowhere to replace him. She’d absolutely killed it at Guitar Hero, Clarke didn’t stand a chance. It’d been fun, though.  
The woman winked at her. _

_“Thank you.” Clarke laughed. “But you’re unbeatable at this.” _

_She shrugged and leaned against the table behind her, her brown curls falling on her shoulders._

_“Yeah, well, that’s kinda my thing. I’m a musician.” _

_Clarke’s eyes widened, feeling stupid for not thinking about this before._

_“Oh.” _

_“Yeah.” the woman nodded, smiling._

_“That explains a lot.” _

_They laughed. Clarke picked sipped her a glass and leaned against the table beside her. Clarke took a look at her, observing her for the first time. It was so unexpected. It wasn’t so much the fact that she talked to Clarke that was a bit intriguing, but more the way she talked and moved. She seemed so confident that Clarke almost felt intimidated. She looked a bit older than her, too. Clarke could easily imagine she was the kind of person everyone liked, always surrounded by a group of friends. _

_“What’s _your_ hidden talent?” the girl asked. _

_Even if she seemed so sure of herself, she didn’t come off as haughty. On the contrary, it felt so easy to talk to her. _  
_So, because she felt like such a kind and nice person, Clarke opened up._  
_ She didn’t know how long they talked, but it was long enough for Clarke to fill up her drink for the third time. She told her about painting, of course, but also about her friends, her work. Apparently, her new friend was a singer, and a very good one. She would perform in bars with a small group, getting more and more attention from the public. It was too bad the music was too loud in there, Clarke would’ve loved to hear her voice – even if she kept saying she was ‘ just fine’. Artists were never objectives with their own art._

_“And what happens next?” Clarke asked her, wanting to know how the anecdote ended. _

_“So I come off the stage,” she continued, already laughing, “and I see this weird th-“ _

_“Here you are!” someone interrupted. _

_They both turned around, coming face to face with… what looked like a ridiculous vampire, his black cloak weirdly hanging around his neck. Clarke’s gaze went up and down his face covered in fake blood, until she noticed the back curls and the brown eyes. She burst out laughing, realizing it was Bellamy. _

_“Hey!” she managed to say. _

_“Hey!” her new friend said, at the same time. _

_They looked at each other. Clarke’s puzzled expression was probably mirroring her new friend’s. Wait, what ? _

_“Oh, so you guys met.” Bellamy said, his voice muffled by his fake teeth_

_“What do you mean?” the brunette asked him. _

_Clarke watched Bellamy coming right next to the girl, putting his right hand on her waist. Either Clarke was way too drunk or she was missing something, because she couldn’t comprehend what was happening. _

_“Gina, this is Clarke.” he said. “You know, the new art teacher I told you about?” _

_Clarke’s breath got caught in her chest. _  
_He smiled at Gina, and even if he looked ridiculous, Clarke could see the love in his eyes. The shock of the revelation made her feel a bit dizzy – but she could also blame alcohol for that. She also felt so stupid, because she could’ve guessed. They’d been talking for God knows how long, and they didn’t even know each other’s name. They didn’t even think about asking._  
_ Gina’s mouth formed an ‘o’, as she realized who she’d been talking to all along. At least Gina felt the same as she did._

_“Oh, yeah! So you’re Clarke?” she said, grinning. _

_It was weird, watching her and Bellamy being so close. A few seconds ago, she was just a cool stranger she was making conversation with. Now she was Bellamy’s girlfriend. _  
_And she was fucking perfect._  
_ Clarke tried to meet Bellamy’s gaze, but he only stared at Gina. Was he doing it on purpose?_

_“Uh, yeah.” Clarke smiled, even if she couldn’t help but feel weird about this situation. _

_It made sense, anyway. Anyone could fall in love with this girl. _

_“Bellamy told me about you.” Gina said, as Bellamy looked down. _

_“He did?” _

_For some reason, she didn’t think he would. Their friendship was pretty recent. But they were a couple, after all. Of course, he would tell her.  
Bellamy finally locked eyes with her, but he felt so far away. It was like he wasn’t the same as usual. The stupid costume wasn’t helping._

_“Yeah! I’m glad I met you.” Gina told her, and it sounded so genuine. _

_Clarke had a hard time associating the nice girl she’d just met, and the idea of Bellamy’s girlfriend she’d made up in her head. She’d seen him sad and stressed enough times to hold a grudge against this person she didn’t know, and now she didn’t know how to feel. They seemed in love, happy. So what was going on? She shouldn’t care. It was none of her business.  
Just as she was about to answer, Jasper bumped into her, Monty following close behind. _

_“Pictuuuure!” he screamed, raising his hands in the hair, his phone in one of them. _

_Bellamy growled, trying to escape the embarrassment of the situation, but Gina laughed and pulled him closer to her. _

_“Oh, no, no, no. You’re not going anywhere.” She told him. _

_“Hey, Bryan!” Jasper called out. _

_A guy Clarke recognized as Miller’s boyfriend came to them, his hands in his pocket. _

_“Yep? _

_“Can you take a photo?” Jasper asked, screaming way too loud, his hands moving frenetically._

_The guy shrugged._

_“Yeah, sure.” he said. _

_Jasper put the phone in his hands and walked up to Clarke, putting himself between her and Gina. Clarke – not feeling in the mood - took this opportunity to get away from him, hoping he wouldn’t notice her fleeing. But as she passed by Monty, someone grabbed her arm. _

_“Where are you going?” Harper asked her, laughing. _

_“Ugh.” _

_Clarke rolled her eyes and sighed. She was dragged back to the group again, Harper holding on to her. _

_“I’m not even sure we all fit…” she started._

_“Shut up and smile!” her friend told her. _

_So Clarke leaned in and forced herself to grin. The flash blinded her, but all she could was Bellamy’s face and the way he stared at her new friend. At his girlfriend. At Gina. _


	13. The drawings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys ! Here's the new chapter. Enjoy 🙂

**17/02/2019**

Clarke couldn’t sleep.  
She rolled and rolled in her bed, thinking about everything and nothing at all. Images of the Bellamy she knew three years ago were mixing with her memories of him from only the day before. She would hear not only his voice in her head, but also Gina's, Raven's, Octavia's, her own.  
Sometimes, she felt panic slowly growing inside of her, her heart beating faster. She would close her eyes and whisper _'He mustn’t know. He mustn’t know’._ But an hour later she'd feel calm, ready to face the consequences. Then she would panic again.  
It was 6am, and Clarke was going through a "calm" phase, which was great but wouldn't last if she thought too much about the situation. She was imagining herself talking to Bellamy, trying to find the words to tell him everything. Each time she would come up with something, more memories arose and she would lose track of her inner monologue.  
She was getting more and more frustrated. She didn't know where to start nor what to say and when. She sighed, straightening in the bed, and took her head in her hands. She was so tired, but she knew that as long as she hadn't figured all of this out, she wouldn't be at peace. She just wished someone would show her the way, someone to guide her and tell her _'It's gonna be fine, here's what you gotta do'_. But of course, nobody would come to her rescue. If only she could just… show Bellamy. Transferring him all the images she had in her head, like a movie.  
She suddenly sat on the bed, widely awake.  
What if she _could _show him?  
The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. She wasn't one to express herself through words.  
So she would draw.  
She got up, put a sweater on, and headed to living room. She searched around for a pencil and sheets, which she quickly found in drawer. She regretted not bringing her own equipment, it would've been much better, but those would do.  
She settled on the couch, the pencil in her hand, the sheets on the small table in front of her. For a moment she just stared at them, her mind racing. Then she leaned in, and draw the first line.

*****

Bellamy was barely waking up when, to his surprise, he saw Clarke had sent him a text. She’d never done that until then, expect for the time when she told him she was combing back in town. Otherwise, he was always the one asking to meet with her.  
He sat on his bed, curious. Maybe it was stupid, but he couldn’t wait to read her message.

_‘I have something to show you. Please come to Monty and Harper’s. I’m waiting for you there.’ _

He was fully dressed and ready to go five minutes later.

*****

His heart was already beating fast when he rang at the door. It remined him of the last time he’d come here, when he didn’t even know she would be all alone. He remembers the shock on her face when she saw him, even if she was trying to hide it, and the overwhelming emotions he felt when he noticed the painting on the table and the letters at the bottom – C.G. It felt like it’d happened so long ago. He couldn’t believe so many things had changed since then.  
This time, when she opened the door, a warm smile was welcoming him. And he was the one not knowing what to do with himself.

“Hi.” she said.

He couldn’t help but stare at her. He noticed her short blond hair put in a messy bun, the old sweater she was wearing, her white pajama pants. But, even if he wasn’t used to see her so… casually dressed, none of this actually struck him. Because her big, blue eyes had never seemed more alive. She was looking at him in a way she never did before. It just hit him to see how beautiful she was in this moment.

“Hi.” he said automatically, not able to take his eyes off her.

“Come in.” she said, as she stepped aside.

His heart was beating even faster, but he wasn’t sure why exactly. Was he just impatient to discover what she wanted to show him ? Or was it something else entirely?  
Her smile was still there, but shy. He went in, but didn’t move farther, waiting for her to show him the way. She closed the door behind him and walk past him.

“I did all of this this morning. It took me hours.” she explained.

He followed her to the living room, more intrigued than ever. He was very aware of how close to her he was, his eyes focusing on the strands of blond hair on her neck. He shook his head. He felt weird this morning, probably the lack of sleep.  
They reached the couch, and she stopped. At first he didn’t know what he was supposed to do or see, until he noticed tons on white sheets spread on the coffee table. He frowned, unsure to understand what it meant. He was about to get closer when Claire stepped in front of him, forcing him to look at her. He was a bit disappointed to see she wasn’t smiling anymore. She took a breath before she talked.

“I found a way to tell you everything.” she said.

His eyes widened.

“I mean…” she continued. “I’m not gonna tell you, really.”

She looked down, fidgeting with her hands. Was this real? Was it happening? Was he really about to get the answers he wanted?  
The hope grew inside of him, like a flame in his chest. At the same time, he was so afraid. He didn’t even know what she meant by _‘everything’_. It only made him more curious, hungry to find out. He tried not to show her how excited and terrifying this was for him. She seemed to be as nervous as he was.  
She went to the couch, inviting him to sit with her. He immediately followed, his eyes on the table. Their arms were touching. He felt her body tense before she leaned and took one the sheets, which she turned around.  
It was him.  
She’d drawn him, and he immediately noticed the similarities between this drawing and the one he’d kept with him for two years. It was so much alike, that he stared at Claire, fully realizing she was the one he’d been looking for all this time. She’d confirmed it before, but he realized he hadn’t let himself fully believing it. She looked back at him. She wasn’t just an enigma for him anymore, she was so much more than that. She was… fascinating.  
She looked away.  
He focused back on the drawing, observing his old self. He was frowning, his curls falling on his face. He wore glasses, which seemed to be the same than on his old drawing. He looked pissed.

“This is the first time I ever saw you.” she explained, whispering.

Her face was so close to his, but he didn’t look up. All of the sudden this image of his past self-had another meaning – it was the way she saw him in her memories. It meant that somewhere in her head, maybe in her heart, there was a spot for him. It was more than enough.

“I look… angry.” he said, intrigued.

The shadow of a smile appeared on her lips.

“It’s because we argued.”

“Why?” he asked, fully staring at her this time.

She avoided his gaze, once again.

“Because… well.” she sighed. “I was a bit drunk and you interrupted me and… you were in a bad mood,_ I_ was in a bad mood. It escalated quickly.”

She shrugs, as if it didn’t matter. But it did. It meant so much to him.  
He grinned, trying to imagine her drunk and pissed. He’d never seen her like this before, at least not that he remembered, obviously.  
The more she talked, the more the drawing seemed to change. Bellamy felt like he was discovering it again and again. It was addicting.  
At some point he put the drawing down, and leaned in to pick another. He waited for her to nod before he took one in his hand. He turned it around, impatient. His curiosity was so strong his hands were shaking.  
It took him a few seconds to realize why the image seemed so familiar.

“The café.” he said.

“Yes.”

It was him, again. His head was down, his curls hiding his eyes. He was writing something on one of the many pieces of paper scattered on the small table, a cup of coffee on his left.  
She didn’t add anything – but she didn’t need to. For one, because he already knew about their little tradition to eat there together. But most importantly because the drawing told him more than any of her explanations.  
She’d drawn his face, his hands, his clothes so perfectly. She remembered the little scratch on the table, the weird picture in the background, the watch he was wearing. There were so many details, even if he could see she’d done this in a rush. He wondered what she was capable of when she had the right tools and enough time.  
She never intervened, watching him in silence, but she would always answer his questions.  
The third drawing wasn't of him, or anyone else. It was a place. Somewhere he didn't recognize, but it seemed beautiful.

"That's my workshop." she said before he could ask her.

"You had a workshop?"

She shrugged.

"Kinda. It was just a room above my apartment. It was well-hidden. If Jasper hadn't shown me…"

She interrupted herself, her lips pursed as if she'd said too much. Bellamy had a hard time understanding her reaction, but he didn't insist.

"And why…?" he started

"We spent a lot of time there." she explained, probably glad he'd changed the subject.

That surprised him.

"Even more than at the café?"

She smiled shyly - a tiny movement at the corner of her lips. But her eyes were shining.

"Yeah. Even more."

She sighed, melancholic. Bellamy wished he could share the feeling.  
He focused back on the drawing, but it was so full of details he didn't know where to look. He noticed the most obvious - an easel in the background.

"So this is where you painted." he guessed.

"Yes." she confirmed, even if he wasn't asking. "I could spend hours in that room."

"And… what did we do?"

He watched her eyebrows rose and her mouth open, as is she didn’t really know what to say.

"Oh. You would write, mostly.”

She looked down, hesitating. She was playing with her hands, as she often did.

“You liked watching me paint." she whispered, her voice so low he almost didn’t hear her.

He swore her cheeks weren't that red a minute earlier. But it was no surprise to him - of course he would spend his time watching her paint. He couldn’t stop looking at her each time they met. Everything about her seemed so fascinating.

"What do you like to paint?" he asked.

He wanted to know more of her, he realized. She’d actually never actually talked about herself.  
She looked up, thinking.

"Hmm… I usually prefer portraits. Actually, the first painting of mine you ever saw was a portrait of my dad." she told him.

"Really? Did I know him?” he immediately asked.

Maybe Bellamy’d forgot about him, too.  
But she didn’t have the reaction he expected – her blue eyes were now full of sadness. His heart sank. He knew this look all to well.

“No. He died when I was sixteen.” she said.

He felt like crap. That was the most personal question he’d asked her until then, and it probably was the last thing she’d want to talk about. Frustration grew inside of him. He wouldn’t make such stupid mistakes if only he remembered. He would know what to say, how to act. He would understand her, and their bond. Whatever it was.

“I’m sorry.” he said.

She shook her head.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry.”

But he did worry. He actually didn’t say anything more, just in case he would mess it up again. Clarke remained silent too. He stared at the drawing for so long he could picture it perfectly in his head, but he didn’t dare asking her more questions. He felt bad, stupid and uncomfortable. He just wished they could go back to a few minutes ago.

“You were drunk when I first brought you here.” she told him, out of nowhere.

“What?” he said, his eyes widening.

His reaction made her smile. He felt better.

“Yeah. I had to carry you upstairs…” she started.

And just like that, she talked. She told him about that night, and that morning. She even laughed at some point. He didn’t have to ask for more details – she was giving him everything he wanted. He could picture the scene in his head, but it didn’t trigger anything inside of him. It didn’t feel familiar. He felt a bit disappointed, even though he knew his memories wouldn’t just… come back.  
When she started telling him about the first time they’d met – “This time, _I_ was drunk.” she said – he put the drawing aside, leaned back on the couch and listened attentively to her. She would move her hands and close her eyes and sometimes smile, and he would just stare at her.

“Wait… who were you talking to? Before I interrupted you?” he asked, realizing she’d never precise this.

Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Hm, Monty.” she said, her voice weirdly tight.

He nodded. That made sense.

“For how long have you know them? Monty and Jasper I mean.”

She grinned, thinking about them.

“I was in high school with them.” she said.

“Here? In Arkadia?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” he said, even more curious. “So you didn’t meet them thanks to Harper?”

She looked down, but not fast enough to hide her shock. She took a long breath, as if preparing herself to answer.  
But why was that?

“No. Yeah. I mean, Harper met them later.” she said.

He could hear the lie in her voice. But he wouldn’t ask about it, at least not for now.

“Okay. So you used to live here?” he asked instead.

Her body seemed to relax a bit.

“Yeah. I lived there with my parents. My mom and I moved out after my dad died.” she explained.

Geez, he kept coming back to the dad subject.

“Then I came back here.” she continued, before he had the time to apologize once again. “After Wells… Lexa and Finn… I just had to leave.”

She sighed.  
Wells. Lexa. Finn. Names he didn’t know, but were so important to her.  
He couldn’t help himself to ask about them.  
And she answered.  
She told him about her best friend. He was the mayor’s son, and absolutely brilliant. He’d moved to Canada a few years ago, so Clarke only saw him one or two times a year. He was always so busy. She loved him so much, but Bellamy could see the situation made her sad.  
She told him about Finn, and two minutes only was enough for Bellamy to hate him right away. He wanted to punch him in the face. The good news was Clarke did exactly that, after she found out he had a girlfriend. That same girlfriend was one of her best friends today, and Bellamy found out she’d been the one he’d talked to on the phone.  
She also told him about Lexa. How in love she was, how heartbroken he had been to let her go. Lexa had changed, Clarke had changed. They tried to make it work, but it wasn’t enough.  
Bellamy never took his eyes off her. She didn’t seem to notice so much. She seemed to feel so much more comfortable than the other days. He hoped it would remain that way.  
At some point in the day, both of their bellies were making weird sounds. They ordered pizza.  
Hours had passed when she stopped taking, and he stopped asking.  
She yawned.

“I’m just going to leave. You seem tired.” he said, straightening.

“Oh, no. It’s fine.”

“I took enough of your time.” he insisted, politely smiling.

She didn’t insist – he could see she needed sleep. He got up, his eyes landing on all the drawings he had yet to discover. She followed his gaze.

“You can take them.” she told him.

She got off the couch too, picking up all the sheets.

“If you have any questions, just ask.” she said, handling them to him.

He nodded before taking them. For just a second, their hands touched. He could swear she’d flinch at the contact.  
She avoided his gaze while walking to the door, but she smiled at him as he stepped outside. It felt so weird, as if he had changed. The Bellamy leaving didn’t feel the same as the Bellamy who’d knocked on the door a few hours ago. Claire seemed different too. Her eyes were so warm. She’d opened up to him, and something had shifted between them.  
He just couldn’t say _what_ exactly.

“See you, then.” he said.

“Sure.”

He stared at her one second too long before he turned around and he heard the door close behind him. He waited to be in his car to let out a long sigh. What a day. He couldn’t fully process everything. He couldn’t wait to see her again.  
He was still holding the pile of drawings. One of them was sticking out, close to falling. With his left hand, Bellamy took it and couldn’t resist taking a look. It was confusing – he couldn’t quite understand what it was supposed to represent. After a few seconds, he could make out an arm, probably his. It seemed to be around something – a waist. There seemed to be waves on the side, he couldn’t quite guess what it was. He finally realized he was looking at it the wrong way. He turned the drawing on the side. The waves were supposed to be white sheets, in a bed.  
With who?  
He frowned, feeling lost. Maybe it would just make sense once he’d asked Claire. He put the drawing aside and focus on the one that interest him.  
The workshop.  
He didn’t know where it was, but he knew who might give the information he wanted. He had a feeling this place still held secrets from the past. It was out there, somewhere. And he would find it.  
He had to talk to Jasper.


	14. The workshop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone ! Thank you for all your comments and kudos on last chapter ❤️ This one's a bit longer. Hope you'll like it, can't wait to see what you think of it ! ☺️

** _14/11/2015 _ **

_Clarke sighed, picking up the eraser for the hundredth time in an hour to start her sketch all over again. It was one of those days she truly wanted to draw something, but just couldn’t quite pinpoint what. Each time she had an idea, she always ended up being disappointed by her work. The more she tried the more her frustration was growing. She was closed to give up, but it meant she was going to be in a bad mood for the rest of the day. _

_“Damn it.” she grumbled. _

_She tried to think about something new. Maybe she shouldn’t draw a portrait, this time. She’d finished her father’s not so long ago. A landscape, then? But that idea alone sounded boring to her. Maybe something completely different, like imaginary creatures or enchanted kingdoms? Yeah, she wasn’t that imaginative, unfortunately. She bit her lip, her fingers playing with a pencil. Maybe she should watch a show on Netflix, she’d still be more productive than she was at the moment. She had two episodes left of Orange Is the New Black…_  
Bzzz.  
_She startled._  
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.  
_She looked to her right to find her phone buzzing – Bellamy’s name written on the screen._  
_ He was calling her? Now?_  
_ She frowned. He’d never done that before. They usually texted - if Bellamy actually remembered he had a phone._  
_ It was probably nothing anyway. It was just… interesting._  
_ She picked up the phone_.

_“Hello?” _

_“Hi.” Bellamy said. “Uh…”_

_She waited for him to continue – but he remained silent for so long she checked to see if he was still on the phone. He was. _

_“Yes?” she said. _

_“I, uh… It’s stupid. I don’t wanna bother you…” he mumbled. _

_“What? You’re not bothering me. You’re probably the most exciting thing that happened to me today.” Clarke joked. _

_But he didn’t laugh.  
Okay, something was wrong. _

_“Bellamy, what is it?” she asked, worried. _

_She heard him sigh. _

_“I had a fight with Gina.” he said. _

_Clarke straightened. _‘Of course’,_ she thought. _

_“And uh… I needed to get some air. So I left the apartment and now I’m just walking in the streets with nowhere to go.” he told her, his voice tight. _

_“Oh.” she said. _

_She realized he wasn’t calling her to talk, or to think about something else. He was calling her for help.  
He could’ve called Miller, or Murphy, or his sister. But he’d chosen _her_. He was asking _her_. Because she was his friend. _

_“You can come over.” she immediately suggested. _

_“You sure?” he asked. _

_“Of course, Bell. No problem.”_

_“Okay… Thank you.” he said, and she could hear the relief in his voice. _

_She smiled. Maybe she shouldn’t feel that way, but she was happy knowing he’d think of her in that moment. She felt almost proud. Bellamy trusted her, just like she trusted him. _

_“I’ll be here soon.” he said. _

_“I’m waiting.” she told him, before hanging up. _

_*****_

_Bellamy arrived about 20 minutes later. She heard his steps getting closer to the door._  
_Clarke’d been cleaning up the mess in her workshop while waiting for him – mostly to do something with her hands. It was better than looking at a blank sheet for hours._  
_ She went down the narrow stairs to find him standing in front of her apartment’s door._

_“Hi.” she said._

_He startled, clearly not expecting her to be there. Then he smiled at her. _

_“Hi.” _

_She noticed his heavy breathing and his chest moving fast. She understood immediately. _

_“You had to take the stairs, is that it?” she asked. _

_“Yeah.” he sighed. “The elevator was out of function.” _

_“It always is.” she laughed. “Well, at least it gives me a bit of exercise to do every day.” _

_She was standing just in front of him now, close enough to see the freckles on his face. He was still grinning at her, but there was still sadness in his eyes. His hair was a damn mess. It reminded her of the first time she’d ever seen him. Funny how much her opinion of him had changed since then – except maybe that she still found him attractive. In a very objective, platonic way obviously.  
Clarke opened the door to her apartment. _

_“Come in.” she said. “Make yourself comfortable.” _

_He stepped into the living room as she closed the door behind him, his eyes scanning everything around him. She didn’t understand why he seemed to discover the place – she’d brought him here before - until she remembered that he’d never been in this room. He’d only seen the workshop until then. _

_“It’s cool. Very… you.” he commented. _

_“Very _me _? What does that mean?” she asked him, unsure of if it was a good thing or not. _

_He took off his jacket as he answered, a small smile at the corner of his lips._

_“I don’t know. There are so many colors and… stuff. It’s messy but in a good way. I like it.”_

_He winked at her to make sure she knew he wasn’t lying. _

_“Okay.” Clarke said, satisfied by his response. “Here, give me this.” _

_She took his jacket off his hands to put on a chair beside her. _

_“Do you want a beer or something?” she asked him. _

_“Sure.”_

_He sat down on the couch as she went to the fridge. By the time she came back to sit beside him, he was clenching his fists on his knees, his face grim. She frowned but didn’t say anything. She handed him the beer, putting her other hand on his shoulder, hoping to give him some comfort. He took the beverage with a quick “thanks” and sighed. _

_“Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to talk about anything but this?” she asked him, calmly. _

_He shook his head, but she didn’t know what exactly he was saying no to. She didn’t have to wait for an answer, though. He started talking a second later. _

_“Do you ever feel like you’re so fucking alone? Like, you’ve got ten people around you that care about you, but you still feel like they don’t actually see you?” he asked her, his voice tight. _

_Clarke’s heart ached because of his words. It saddened her to see him suffer this much. It was more than just a fight with his girlfriend, it was a sorrow growing inside of him. And he was trying to fight it. _

_“Yes.” she whispered. _

_Of course, everybody was sorry for her when her dad died. They were all so kind, so generous all of the sudden. She could literally ask anyone anything and they would do it, because the poor girl had lost her daddy. But at some point, people got tired and they expected her to get over it, and as fast as possible. They didn’t want to deal with someone who felt like shit every day. So, once she started saying “I’m okay” when they asked her how she was doing, they felt better – even if they all knew it wasn’t true. It gave them a reason not to think about her and the tragic event they didn’t actually care about.  
So, yeah. She knew how it was like. She didn’t feel that way anymore, but she definitely used to. _

_“It’s like they have this vision of me… I don’t know if that’s what I am. Maybe I’m not like this. Maybe I’m not a good brother or a good teacher or a good boyfriend.” he said, closing his eyes. _

_He sighed again, his jaw clenching. He brought the beer to his lips. Clarke still had her hand on his shoulder. _

_“Well, I don’t know about the good boyfriend or brother part.” she told him. “But I know you’re a good teacher and a good friend. And a wonderful guy, on top of that.” _

_The shadow of a smile appeared on his lips. He opened his eyes again to stare at her. The intensity of his look made her heart miss a beat. _

_“I’m not sure of that.” he said. _

_“I am.” _

_For a few seconds they remained silent, only staring at each other. They could only hear the sound of their breathings. Clarke was extremely aware of the intimacy of the moment and didn’t know what to do with herself. She wasn’t sure how she felt about all of this._  
_Bellamy was the first one to look away._  
_He cleared his throat before he talked again, one of his hands rummaging through his hair._

_“Gina’s leaving again.” he said._

_“Oh.” _

_So that was what the argument was about. _

_“In Europe. For three months.” he added._

_“Three months?” Clarke repeated, taken aback. _

_“Yeah.” _

_She leaned back into the couch. _

_“Damn.” she couldn’t help herself to say. _

_That was a pretty long time. From what Bellamy’d told her – which wasn’t much - Gina’d never been gone for so long. It wasn’t going to be easy. They already enough issues without this new plan. Clarke wouldn’t tell Bellamy, but it felt like their breakup was now just a matter of time. He probably knew that already, though. He was hurt. And all Clarke could do was to be by his side when it’d all happen._

_“When I want clear my head, to think about something else… I write. But recently I… I can’t stay at the apartment, you know? And the café is always so crowded. I just want to be in peace for an hour or two.” he said, playing with his hands. _

_He’d changed the subject on purpose, of course. He never talked about Gina for too long. Clarke wouldn’t insist._

_“Well, I mean you could come and write here. At my workshop.” she shrugged, because she wasn’t sure he would accept. _

_“You sure?” he asked, looking at her. _

_“Yeah. I don’t mind.” _

_She didn’t. Mostly because she wasn’t expecting him to actually show up and write in her workshop, but also because it could be nice having someone with her while she painted. _

_“Okay. Thanks.” he said, a real smile on his face this time. _

_They went upstairs, once they were done with their beers. They talked about something else, she even managed to make him laugh at some point.  
Once in her workshop, she watched him observing the room again. He took his time, even if he was familiar with it. He pointed at the mat on the floor. _

_“I remember this one pretty well.” he joked. _

_She laughed as she went to sat in one of the two chairs on the other side of the room. She’d left her sketchbook on the small table beside it. Bellamy sat in front of her. _

_“Do you have a pen? And paper?” he asked. _

_She looked around the room. _

_“Yeah… I’m not sure. This is really _not_ the kind of things I work with every day.” she teased._

_He rolled his eyes, which made her laugh even more. She fetched a few sheets and three different pens. She barely had the time hand them to him before he was already writing something. _

_“Thanks” he said. _

_It was only once she was sat in front of him again that she realized she wanted to draw. She knew exactly what. _  
_She picked up her sketchbook and her pencil. She didn’t do anything at first, only looking at Bellamy. But when she started, she couldn’t stop until she was done._  
_ She drew his serious face as he was deep in his thoughts. She drew his hands on the papers. She drew the way his curls were falling on his eyes. She drew his glasses falling on his nose. She drew his freckles, his lips, his jaw. She drew him._  
_ The way she saw him._  
_ At the very end, when she was satisfied of her work, she wrote three words and two letters :_  
‘I see you. C.G.’

* * *

**19/02/2019**

Bellamy was standing in front of the apartment’s door, hesitant.  
Jasper had kindly given him Clarke’s old address, almost without resistance. _“At this point, there’s nothing I can do to stop you”_ he’d told Bellamy as he was writing it down.  
Now here he was, not daring to knock on that stupid door. He ‘d been staring at it for so long he felt like an idiot. The thing was, he didn't know what to do or say. He'd come all this way only to realize he didn't have plan. He didn't even know who was living there. And what would he tell them? _‘Hi, a girl who I think used to be my friend lived in this apartment before, but I don't remember anything and I was kinda hoping seeing the place would trigger memories so can I please come in?’_  
He sighed. He had no fucking clue on how to do this. But he was pretty sure that standing in front of this door forever wasn't a good plan either.

"Okay." he said, trying to gather all of his courage. "One. Two. Th-"

The door opened suddenly.  
Bellamy literally jolted away from it, his heart beating so fast in chest he thought it would come out of it. He just had the scare of his life.

"Who the fuck are you?" asked a deep voice.

The man Bellamy was now facing looked like he could be a pirate. He just had that kind of face. He had long brown hair, piercing green eyes, and way too much confidence. Bellamy felt his muscles tense.

"I'm Bellamy Blake." he said, firmly, as if the guy would know who he was.

The guy crossed his arms.

"If you're here to sell me some of your shit, I thought I'd made myself clear last time…" he said, a clear threat in his voice.

"I'm not here for this."

The guy took a step closer, losing patience.

"Then why are you here for, then?"

_Shit._ He had to find an explanation - one that didn't sound crazy. The last thing he wanted was to look like a moron in front of this guy. He straightened his shoulder to make it look like he knew exactly what he wanted - and he was gonna get it.

"A friend of mine used to live here. I was wondering if she'd left some of her stuff."

What the hell. That wasn't even good. He didn't even have proof he knew Claire. He'd completely failed.  
The guy frowned.

"The blond one?" he asked, to Bellamy's surprise.

"Uh, yeah."

"What was her name again?"

"Claire Graham."

That made the guy pause, for some reason. He seemed to be thinking about something.

"Yeah, I guess that's her." he said, shrugging.

The guy took another step closer, which made Bellamy step back - but he just wanted to close the door behind him.

"Follow me." the guy said.

… What?  
It was so easy. Bellamy had been expecting an argument, a threat, maybe even a fight. Instead, everything was going exactly the way he wished it would.   
Bellamy followed him to a concealed door in a corner. For a second, he wondered if the guy was a serial killer and it was all a trap. Behind the door were narrow stairs, and it was so dark you couldn't see the end. The guy went first.

"She left a bunch of shit in this room." he explained, as he was climbing up. "She said I could throw them away. I figured maybe she'd want them back one day."

Bellamy waited as he heard him struggle with something at the stop of the stairs. He didn't understand what he was doing until light illuminated them.  
A trap door.  
The guy turned around to look a Bellamy, still downstairs.

"You coming or not?" he asked, irritated.

Bellamy immediately followed. Hopefully he wouldn't be killed.  
Only once he was standing in the room did he realize where he was.  
The workshop. It was so empty and dirty - the shadow of what it used to be. But the walls were still white, the light was still shining through. A bunch of boxes were scattered on the floor, along with old tools and items.  
He wished he remembered something. Anything. But nothing came.

"This was all hers." the guy said, pointing at the boxes on the left. "These are mine.' he added, pointing at the rest.

Bellamy didn't know what to say. It was so much more than he expected. The guy’s face was suddenly even more serious than it already was.

"Listen." he said. "I don't care what you do with it. Take it, leave it, burn it. I don't give a shit. But I gotta go now so you need to decide, and fast."

"I'm taking them." Bellamy told him, without even thinking.

He made a point to look at the guy straight in the eyes. The guy squinted, as if analyzing Bellamy, then nodded.

"Great. I'm Roan, by the way." he said, extending a hand.

Bellamy looked at it, taken by surprise. He didn’t hesitate long enough for the guy to feel offended, fortunately.

"Nice to meet you." he said, even if he wasn't really thinking it.

Roan didn’t seem to care much. He turned his back on Bellamy to pick up two of the boxes.

"Gonna help you with this. You're lucky the elevator's working." he grumbled, as he went down the stairs.

Roan left so fast it was clear he wanted to be done with the situation. No time to lose. Bellamy gave one last look at the room before he took the rest of the boxes and followed him.

*****

Bellamy waited until he was home to look through them.  
Most of the things he discovered weren’t that interesting - old brushes, a broken jar, a small lamp, a shirt covered with paint… It still felt weird. Claire didn’t know he had those boxes with him. He felt a bit guilty for not telling her. After all, it all used to be a part of her life. But did it really matter, if she’d left everything behind? Maybe he wouldn’t find anything. Maybe none of these things were important.  
There were five boxes. Each time he opened one, he found himself disappointed. He didn’t know why exactly. What did he expect to find? Of course it was just old stuff. He never intended to go home with all of this anyway, he just wanted to see the workshop with his own eyes. And nothing happened. Not even a feeling of familiarity.  
Bellamy clenched his jaw as he picked up the last box. He didn’t even want to look through it – he knew it wouldn’t contain anything interesting. He opened it anyway, because otherwise he would regret not doing so. He wasn’t surprised to find other old brushes. Claire must’ve had tons of them. Underneath them was a notebook – he went through the pages only to find it empty – and underneath the notebook were… pictures.  
Bellamy froze.  
There weren’t a lot, maybe ten. He took them carefully, afraid to somehow damage them. His breathing accelerated. He tried not to hope for much, as he took one at random. Maybe it’d just be pictures of the apartment or the city or…  
Miller.  
And Jasper, Monty, Harper. And Claire. And Bellamy.  
All on the same picture.  
At a bar, apparently.  
Bellamy couldn’t believe it. His brain couldn’t accept that possibility. Miller’d told him he didn’t know Harper’s cousin. He’d told him he didn’t know anyone good at drawing portraits, back when Bellamy was trying to get some answers on the drawing. Claire’d never told him she’d met his best friend.  
Miller knew. Claire knew. And they’d been hiding this from him for years.


	15. The puzzle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys ! Here's the new chapter, this one is very fast paced. I had to include a lot of little scenes in it. I hope you'll enjoy it 😊  
Thank you so, so much for your kind comments and kudos !  
Also, it's crazy to think we're already half way through the story. When I started this, I didn't even think this fic would make it this far. It's always a surprise to see that people are loving and are truly interested in this story. I'm so grateful for this 💗  
And there are still so much things to come ! I hope you'll stay around 😉

** _24/11/2015_ **

_Clarke _ _was almost running, her eyes fixed on Bellamy’s back. He didn’t know she was following him. She’d been looking for him the entire morning. She’d finally spotted his black curls two minutes ago. As got closer to his car, she sped up.  
He probably heard her coming, because he turned around just as she put her arms around his waist. She wanted to surprise him, and now it looked like she wanted a hug. Well, there was nothing wrong with that. _

_“Happy birthday!” she chanted. _

_Bellamy, still in shock, didn’t react at first. _

_“What the fuck.” he just said, his arms hanging in the air. _

She laughed, not moving. But he didn’t hug her back, even after a few seconds.  
‘Oh. Okay.’ _she thought.  
Clarke stepped away from him, frowning. No touching, then._

_“You’re welcome.” she said, offended. _

_At least _that_ made him laugh. _

_“I’m sorry. You just scared me.” _

_Clarke rolled her eyes, cause it’d actually been the point. It wouldn’t have been funny otherwise. Bellamy smiled as he got closer. _

_“Thank you.” he whispered, and he put his arms around her shoulders._

_A real hug, this time. Clarke sighed, relieved. He wasn’t rejecting physical touch. Everything was fine. She could feel Bellamy’s body heat through his clothes. It was… comfortable. She wouldn’t mind staying there for a little while.  
But the moment didn’t last long, unfortunately. Clarke felt cold as soon as Bellamy was a few feet away from her. She put her hands in her pockets, resisting the urge to catch his shirt and bring him back where he was. She looked down, ashamed of feeling that way. _‘It’s fine. It’s normal.’_ she told herself. _

_“Twenty eight, huh? It’s worth celebrating.” she said. _

_Bellamy shrugged. _

_“Yeah… I’m not gonna do a big thing.” he said, which wasn’t surprising at all. _

_“What are you gonna do, then?” _

_He brought a hand to his hair and started playing with it. _

_“Just, you know, a birthday cake.” he said. _

_Clarke waited for a few seconds before she realized he was done talking. _

_“Wait, that’s all?” she asked him. _

_“Yeah.” _

_He shrugged. Again. _

_“Okay.” she said. “A birthday cake. When is that?” _

_She watched his eyes widened and his mouth slowly opening, as if he’d just found out about something. _

_“Uh… Tonight. But it’s just a small thing, you know. Me, my sister, his boyfriend and Gina. Maybe Miller, too.” he explained. _

_Clarke didn’t understand why he seemed so embarrassed, until realization hit her. _  
_She wasn’t invited._  
_She fought very hard against her own body not to show her disappointment. She forced herself to keep smiling, as if it was nothing at all. And it was. No big deal._

_“Oh. Of course. It’s totally fine. I understand.” she blurted out. _

_She felt stupid. She should’ve known. It made sense. _

_“I’m sorry.” Bellamy said, and it pissed her off because he knew her too well already. _

_“It’s fine.” she repeated. _

_“Gina’s leaving in a month…” he started explaining. _

_“Bellamy.” Clarke cut him off. “It’s fine. I get it.” _

_He sighed, his eyes full of compassion. She didn’t want it. She looked away. _

_“Just… come by the workshop when you can, okay?” she told him before turning her back on him, heading for the school. _

* * *

**  
22/02/2019**

_The headlights. So close. Too close._

_“Gina, behind you!” _

_Too fast._

_“Listen. Why won’t you listen?” she was telling him._

_ “Gina! The car!” _

_“Why won’t you listen Bellamy? Listen to me! Listen!” _

Bellamy woke up, breathing heavily. He was sweating, just like the other night.

“Again.”

That nightmare. The same car, the same words, the same panic. _‘Listen’_. What the hell was he supposed to listen to? It was all she could say. _‘Listen. Listen. Listen.’_  
He was tired of listening. For almost three years that was all he’d been doing. He would listen to his sister, to Miller, to Murphy. He would accept their explanations and their answers, because they wouldn’t lie to him. He trusted them.  
But not anymore.  
He knew they were lying. They could be lying about so many things. They could make him believe in anything.  
Claire was lying, too. But it didn’t hurt so much, because it wasn’t a shock to him. She’d been keeping secrets from him from day one. He just needed to give her time.  
It was different for Miller. He knew Claire, and he never, ever mentioned her. She was Bellamy’s friend, and nobody told him so. Bellamy was only hoping his sister didn’t know much, that she wasn’t hiding things from him on purpose, just like Murphy. But he was afraid of what he’d discover.  
Speaking of her, he was supposed to have lunch at his sister’s. Lincoln, Miller and his new boyfriend would be there.  
_‘How convenient’_ he thought.

*****

“Here it is!” Lincoln said, putting a dish of green beans on the table, where everyone was already seated at. “Bon appétit!”

“Hmmm.” Octavia said loudly, putting a hand on her husband’s cheeks, her eyes full of love. She was in a good mood, apparently, contrary to her brother.

Everybody started filling their plate, handing the different dishes to the person next to them. Bellamy was seated just in front of Miller, and beside Jackson. From what Bellamy had seen of him, he was nice and very chatty. Bellamy probably shouldn’t be so cold, but he found it hard to act as if everything was normal. Of course, none of friends knew what was going on, which earned him a few confused looks.

“This looks really good, Lincoln.” Miller said.

“Thanks.”

For a minute, none of them talked. You could only hear knives and forks knocking together. Miller, felling a bit uncomfortable, cleared his throat. Bellamy was completely aware of the fact it was his fault, but he decided that he didn’t care. His sister glared at him, frustrated.  
This awkward silence could’ve last forever, if not for Jackson.

“So! I can’t believe Nathan only told me his first name _yesterday_.”

Miller rolled his eyes.

“And now you keep calling me like this even though you know I hate it.”

“It’s my way of punishing you for hiding it from me.” Jackson said, smirking.

“Yeah. Miller’s good at hiding things from people.” Bellamy said.

Silence, again. Unless this time the atmosphere was very tense, and everyone was staring at Bellamy. Bellamy was only staring at Miller.

“Oh yeah?” Miller said, as if he was daring Bellamy to repeat what he’d just said.

“Yeah, apparently.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” his friend straightened, frowning.

Bellamy shrugged.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Octavia put the drink she was holding down in a loud _boom_.

“What’s you problem, Bell?” she exclaimed, staring accusingly at him.

Bellamy crossed his arms. He was fighting against the urge to shout at all of them, to tell them how betrayed he felt. But he remained calm, focusing on his breath. He kept staring at Miller, hoping to make him understand he knew. _‘You’re lying to me, and I want you to admit it’_ he was thinking. But his friend only shook his head, as if he couldn’t possibly get what was going on. Bellamy thought about the picture with him and Claire – it was real, he hadn’t made that up. So why is it that she’d never been mentioned in almost three years?  
Even Octavia would’ve known about her.

“Did you ever lied to me about my memories?” he suddenly asked her.

He was hoping she’d deny right away. But she didn’t. First, she gaped at Bellamy, her eyes widening. Then, she denied.

“No! Why would you think that?”

But he knew her too well. And he knew she’d hesitated.

“Really?” he insisted. “Never? So you told me _everything _?”

“Why are you asking this?” she replied, raising her voice.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

Her sister became very pale, and Bellamy suddenly forgot about his anger. He was only worried about her. He put his hand on her arm, in a way to reassure her, but she took it away.

“O…” he said.

“I told you what you needed to know.” she said coldly.

Lincoln helped her to get off her chair, frowning at Bellamy. He wasn’t sure what she’d meant, but he didn’t want to argue with her anymore. So he turned his attention back to Miller, who looked furious but determined. He wouldn’t tell him anything.  
Bellamy sighed. He felt like shit.

“I’m just gonna leave.” he said.

Nobody insisted for him to stay.

*****

Claire had barely opened the door before Bellamy declared :

“I need to talk to you.”

Even if those six words instantly made her worried, she didn’t question him, didn’t object. She just nodded and stepped aside. She noticed the small box he was holding as he came in, wondering what it was. He caught her looking at it.

“I’ll explain.” he said.

“Is everything all right?” she asked, as she closed the door behind him.

“Yeah.” he said but it didn’t sound true at all, which worried her even more.

He went straight to the living room, and she followed close behind. She couldn’t help but admire his face as he took his coat off, even if he seemed so serious.

“Do you want some tea or something?” she offered, mostly because she needed to mentally prepare to what he had to say to her.

He started shaking his head, as if he was going to refuse, but then he locked eyes with her. His face suddenly relaxed a bit. He even smiled a little.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay.” She said, relieved, before heading to the kitchen.

It gave her about five minutes. She concentrated on her breathing as she was waiting for the water to boil. Her mind was racing. Was it because of the drawings? What if he knew everything? No, he would be much angrier than that. Maybe he’d told someone about her? Octavia? Did she tell him something?  
_‘Calm down, calm down’_ she told herself.  
She was so preoccupied by the prospect of this conversation that she didn’t even ask him what he wanted. She just picked whatever tea bag she found.  
When she came back to the living room, Bellamy’d moved a chair in order to put in front of the couch. He wanted to face her while talking. This couldn’t be good.  
Bellamy was playing nervously with his hands when she put the mugs down on the table, beside the box he’d brought.

“Thanks.” he said.

She sat, facing him. She clenched her fists. Now all she could do his wait.  
He took a breath before he started talking.

“So here’s the thing.”

He seemed to hesitate, biting his lips. Then he straightened to look at her. Clarke’s heart missed a beat.

“I’m completely lost. I’m not even sure why I came here in the first place.” he said, his voice low.

Clarke didn’t know what to say – it wasn’t what she expected. She didn’t know where this was going.

“I’ve been living a life that doesn’t feel like mine for two years and a half now. I don’t even who I am, or… who I’m supposed to be. I thought I knew, but I don’t. I just accepted whatever explanation people gave me and convinced myself it was the truth. Cause why wouldn’t it be?”

She noticed his jaw clenching, his eyes searching hers. But she didn’t know how to react. What was the point of all of this?

“But… I think I always knew something was missing.”

He did something she didn’t expect he would do - he took her hand in his. The feeling of his skin touching hers made her startle. But she didn’t take it away. It was so warm.

“It was you.” he murmured.

Hearing those words felt like both a blessing and a curse. Clarke wanted to smile and cry at the same time. It had been said with so much honesty and kindness she couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t breathe properly. She looked down, refusing to look at him.  
He sighed, then let go of her hand. She wished he didn’t.

“I want you to _understand_ me. As if… the me of today.” he said.

Because she only understood past Bellamy. The Bellamy that she knew. He didn’t say it, but he clearly meant it.  
He was right, but it still hurt.  
He took the box beside him, opened it, and emptied its content on the table. Clarke found herself staring at a pile of puzzle pieces.

“This is how my life feels like.” he declared.

He laid out it all out, then started picking up all the blue pieces. Clarke took a look at the picture on the box – the puzzle was supposed to represent a landscape. As Bellamy put them together, she realized it was the sky.

“You’ve got the parts of my life that I remember. My past. My story. I’m Bellamy Blake. I was born on November 24th, 1987. I’ve got a sister. I write. That kind of thing.”

He put the blue pieces aside and picked up others. Orange ones.

“Then you’ve got the obvious parts, the ones I don’t need to remember to know they’re true.”

The pieces formed the leaves of a tree during fall.

“Like, I was a History teacher. Gina and I lived together.”

Clarke winced when she heard Gina’s name, but Bellamy didn’t notice. Once again, he put the pieces aside and picked up new ones. This time, they were green. The grass, Clarke guessed. Those seemed much more complicated to put together.

“These are the parts I’ve been told about. The ones I believed not so long ago, but now I’m not so sure.”

He didn’t even try to finish what he started before he put it all away. Now there was only a few pieces left, completely out of order. Bellamy took the small pile in his hand.

“That, is the reason I can’t sleep at night. It’s the reason why I can’t be at peace. They are the parts that are missing, but only in my head, and not in my heart.”

Clarke swallowed hard. She couldn’t move. What was he saying?  
He leaned on the table, his face getting closer to her, but not too close.

“You were a part of my life, of me. I can feel it. And I need you, because I need to fill the holes. I need the puzzle to be complete.”

He pushed the pile of puzzle pieces towards her.

“And you’re the only one that can give me that.”

* * *

** _  
28/11/2015_ **

_Clarke didn’t expect the knock on the trapdoor of her workshop. She was fully committed to her painting, she didn’t even check her phone to see if someone wanted to pass by. By ‘someone’, she meant Bellamy, of course.  
She’d forgiven him for the birthday party she wasn’t invited to. But there was nothing to forgive, really. It was just her being stupid. _

_“Coming!” she said, washing her hands covered in paint first._

_It could also be Jasper or Monty. They’d come by a few times already, and usually without a warning. But she opened the door, the first thing she spotted was black, messy curls. _

_“Hi.” Bellamy said, a hesitant smile on his lips. _

_They hadn’t talked a lot since his birthday. Even if she didn’t hold a grudge against him, they seemed awkward for some reason. From what he’d told her, the birthday cake tasted good. They didn’t talk more about it._

_“Oh.” she said, suddenly thinking about something. _

_She looked up, scanning the room. Yep, she needed to put some order. _

_“Can you wait for a minute?” she asked, before closing the door, not even waiting for his answer. _

_She had to be quick. She picked up things she’d left on the floor, cleaned up the table, put some stuff back where they should be. She was done within a few minutes. She took the time to take a look before letting Bellamy in. It had to look good.  
It did. _

_“Come in!” she said, opening the door again. _

_He was frowning, but didn’t say anything as he stepped into the room. Clarke didn’t move, smiling, her hands joined in front of her. She was trying her best not to show him how both anxious and excited she was. _’Please don’t let this drop!’_ she thought.  
Bellamy smiled back._

_“I, uh… I’m sorry I didn’t text you before I got here.” he told her._

_“Oh, no, no! It’s fine.” _

‘Come on.’_ she thought._

_Bellamy shrugged, completely oblivious to Clarke’s current state of mind. _

_“I didn’t have the time to pass by aft-“ he said, as he turned around. _

_And spotted the desk.  
It wasn’t the only thing new. It had blank sheets carefully reunited in a pile on it, with pens beside it, and notebooks, and a dictionary, and a lamp. All of this waiting for him. _

_“Happy birthday.” she said, getting closer. _

_Because it wasn’t just a desk with lots of things on it. It was his own corner, his own little space to write. He would be facing the view. She would be painting on the other side of the room. She’d decided to get rid off her two crappy chairs, the ones Bellamy had been writing in. He never complained, but she knew very well it wasn’t very comfortable. _  
_Clarke impatiently waited for him to say or do something, anything. But he just stared and stared, frozen._  
_Fuck. Did he hate it and was afraid to admit it? Maybe it was too much. She should’ve asked him first. Maybe now he’d feel obligated to come since she’d bought all this stuff…_

_“Thank you.” he said, and his voice was tight. _

_He looked at her then. Clarke had expected many things, she’d imagined this scene many times, but she never thought he would be so moved by the gesture. His eyes were red, but he wasn’t crying. On the contrary, he was grinning like an idiot. _

_“So you like it?” she said, feeling like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. _

_He was holding her in his arms a second later, his hands so soft on her back. _

_“Thank you.” he repeated. _

_It didn’t pull away this time. They stayed like this for a moment, her head on his shoulder. She took a breath in, smelling his perfume. It felt so good, being in his arms. But Clarke would never admit it, at least not out loud. So instead, she clung to him as if it was the last time she could ever touch him. Because she knew she would never have anything more than that, and that she shouldn’t wish for it._


	16. The call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooo !  
Here's the new chapter, finally ! I was very glad to see people loved the previous one, thanks for your kudos and comments 🥰  
This chapter is pretty chill but I really like it, so I can't wait to see if you think the same 😉  
As for the next few weeks, I hope I'll have the time to write and post anything, but my exams are starting in a few days... I'll do my best !

**26/02/2019**

Clarke was pretty sure she was dreaming.  
She couldn’t describe her dream really, it was all messy and nonsensical. She seemed to be in a restaurant, or maybe in a hotel. Whatever was happening, there was a weird, repetitive sound she couldn’t explain. It was getting more and more unbearable, especially since she couldn’t understand where it was coming from. The sound intensified, more and more…  
And she woke up.  
The sound was still there.  
She opened her eyes, and immediately noticed the light coming from her phone. She stared at it, confused, until she finally understood what was happening.  
Her phone was buzzing, because someone was calling her.  
She immediately straightened, wondering who could call so late in the night. Her heartbeat accelerated as she imagined the worse. What if her mother had an accident? What if she had to leave Arkadia for an emergency? What was going on?  
She asked herself all of these questions within a second only, the time to take her phone in her hands and see who was calling her. It wasn’t her mother, or an unknown number. She knew perfectly who it was, but the shock of seeing his name on the screen kept her in a blaze for a moment.  
She picked up just in time.

“Bellamy?” she immediately said.

He didn’t answer. Instead, she could only hear his breathing. It was fast. Too fast.

“Bellamy, are you alright?”

“I…” he could only say.

She immediately knew. Because she’d been through it herself.  
He was having a panic attack.  
Clarke got up, feeling the need to move while she talked to him.

“Okay, listen to me.” she said. “Focus on my voice. You’re gonna take a deep breath, slowly, and then you’re gonna get it all out. I’m gonna do it with you. Inhale.”

She did, loudly so he could hear her.

“Hold a second.” she said. “Exhale.”

She continued for a few minutes.  
It wasn’t easy, but at some point he started breathing normally. She kept doing it with him, wishing she was by his side. It probably wasn’t the first time it’d happened to him. Even after he had calmed down, he didn’t say a word.

“Do you need me to come?” she suggested. “I can take a uber. I’ll be here in half an hour…”

“No. It’s fine.” he said, his voice shaking.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s late. Don’t worry.”

Easier said than done. She found it really hard not to go to him right now. She wanted to be there, to hold him in her arms. She’d never seen him like this before.  
But she could easily guess what the source of those panic attacks was.

“Can you… talk to me?” he suggested.

She sat on her bed, frowning. She was still worried sick for him. She could do what he asked, but she wasn’t convinced it’d be enough. She should be with him.

“What do you want to talk about?” she asked anyway.

“Anything. Just talk to me. Please.”

She sighed, still hesitating on what she should do. Maybe she could talk to him while being on her way to his place ? But he would probably guess what she was doing anyway. She bit her lip, thinking.

“Okay.” she finally accepted.

She would stay home and talk to him. But if there was the slightest sign Bellamy wasn’t feeling well, she would immediately go to him. With or without his permission.

“I… uh… My mom called me today.” she said, because she didn’t know what else she could tell him.

“Hmm?”

“It’s always weird, you know. Cause… like, I love my mom. I do. We’re just so different on so many things. I feel like it’s so hard to talk to her. I don’t know. I feel like she doesn’t understand me. But then again, she knew I was… going through a tough time.”

“You were?” he asked, and she noticed the interest in his voice.

“Yeah, I mean… It wasn’t easy, recently. I didn’t have a job. I lived at her house. It was just… yeah. Anyway, I think underestimate her. She cares much more than she shows.”

“That reminds me of someone.” Bellamy said, teasing her.

Clarke remained silent for a moment.

“Uh, what?”

“You always try to hide your emotions. Sometimes it’ frustrating cause I don’t know what you think. But sometimes you’re just like an open book.” he explained.

Clarke didn’t know what to say, because goddamnit, he could always see through her. Even now.

“Anyway.” she said, avoiding the subject. “My mom. She’s the one who convinced to come back here, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I should meet her one day, then. To thank her.”

Clarke’s heat sank. The idea of Bellamy coming back with her, meeting her mom, hurt so much. It was like a fantasy. It just reminded her that soon she wouldn’t even be able to talk to him. And it wouldn’t be because he didn’t remember, but because he wouldn’t want her in his life.  
Clarke fight back her tears and cleared her throat before she spoke again.

“Yeah. Maybe one day.”

Maybe not.

“Hopefully.” he added, as if he somehow knew how uncertain this future was.

She was desperately looking for something else to talk about. She needed to think about anything but the future. She looked around her, and spotted the desk in front of the bed.

“You had your own space, you know? At my workshop, I mean.”

“I did?”

“You had a desk with notebooks, pens and everything. I’d put it all there for your birthday.”

This time, it was Bellamy who remained silent for a moment.

“I’m sure I loved it.” he said.

The emotion she heard in his voice felt like a slap in her face.  
His voice sounded exactly the same as it did when he thanked her, that day.   
Clarke smiled sadly, remembering his face when he discovered his gift. She had to take a deep breath before being able to speak again.

“You did. You loved it so much.”

She had to stop, to wipe a tear off her cheek.

“You spent so much time there, writing.” she continued. “One time you stayed for a whole weekend. I don’t even know what you were writing. I remember… observing you while you were thinking. I could tell when you were frustrated, or satisfied, or both at the same time.”

She could still see it if she closed her eyes. His brows frowning, his curls falling on his eyes, his hands moving as he’d write something down.  
Bellamy didn’t say anything.

“The drawing you kept… I draw you the very first time you came to write there.” she explained.

“Oh.”

Maybe she was making it all up, but she felt like she understood him perfectly, even with a simple ‘oh’. She knew what he was feeling, because she was feeling the same.  
Sadness, but also a kind of joy. Melancholy, for a life only she remembered.  
_‘They are the parts that are missing, but only in my head, and not in my heart. I need the puzzle to be complete’_ he’d told her.  
In the end, they both felt that emptiness in their life. 

“I see it differently, now.” he said. “I… I didn’t look through the other drawings, yet. I was hoping I could discover them with you, just like last time.”

She wasn’t sure it was a good idea, but she accepted anyway.

“Okay.”

They remained silent for so long after that, Clarke was convinced Bellamy had fallen asleep. She listened to his breathing for a moment – the sound was oddly comforting. She was about to say goodbye and hang up when he spoke again :

“I saw you.” he murmured, sleepy.

“What?”

Bellamy yawned.

“At the hospital. I saw you. You came to visit me.”

Clarke froze.

“Why did you look so sad?” he asked, as if talking to himself.

Clarke didn’t even remember hanging up. She only remembers the shock she felt, hearing those words.  
He remembered her from that day. That horrible day.  
And it was just a terrible reminder that he was getting closer to the truth, the one she wished he never discovered.

* * *

** _16/12/2015_ **

_Clarke found him on her doorstep. Which wasn’t a shock, really. He’d been spending half of his time at her place, recently.  
What was shocking however was the fact he was drunk. _

_“Bellamy!” she exclaimed, both pissed and worried. _

_He stepped into the apartment, one of his hand pressed on his forehead as if he was having a headache._

_“I’m not drunk.” was the first thing he said. _

_Clarke closed the door behind him. _

_“You don’t look like it.” she said, taking his arm to help get to the couch. _

_“I’m not _that_ drunk.” he corrected. _

_He sat, sighing. Clarke was standing before him, her arms crossed. Bellamy closed his eyes, ignoring her. It pissed her off even more._

_“Bellamy.” she said firmly, clearly expecting an explanation._

_“Clarke.” _

_“What happened?” she insisted. _

_Bellamy shrugged. _  
_Clarke rolled her eyes, frustrated. He was acting just like the first time they’d met. Like an asshole. She hated this Bellamy._  
_She picked up a cushion and threw it at him. It hit him in his chest._

_“Ouch!” _

_He opened his eyes then, but only to stare accusingly at her. _

_“You either explain what’s going on _now_ or you get out of here.” she said. _

_She didn’t actually mean it, because she wouldn’t let him go alone knowing he’d been drinking. She was only hoping he’d believe her. _  
_Bellamy kept staring at her, his eyes narrowing. He was suspicious, but she didn’t show any hesitation. She stared back, her jaw clenched._  
_After a few seconds, Bellamy closed his eyes again._

_“Have a guess.” he said. _

_Clarke felt relieved he’d told her something, but she also felt bad because _of course_ he’d just had an argument with Gina.  
She sighed and sat beside him. _

_“What was it about, this time?” _

_He took his time to answer. She patiently waited, watching his face. It looked like he was asleep, but she knew he wasn’t. _

_“She’s thinking about going to England.” he said. _

_Clarke nodded. That wasn’t new. _

_“Permanently.” he added. _

_“Oh.” _

_That was new. _  
_And a bit scary, too._  
_Because if Gina wanted to move to England, then Bellamy could decide to follow her. She was his girlfriend, after all. If he loved her, then he would go. Because it was Bellamy. He always thought about the others first._  
_And Clarke couldn’t help but think it meant she’d never see him again._  
_She’d already lost her friendship with Wells because of this. Now she was about to live the exact same scenario, unless this time she wasn’t sure she could just… let it happen._  
_It would hurt._  
_She wanted to ask him. She wanted to know if he planned on going or not. But she was too afraid of his answer. Instead, she remained silent as she got up to fetch a glass of water and an aspirin. She had to keep her mind occupied._  
_At the exact moment she put the glass down on the coffee table in front of him, Bellamy talked._

_“You know, when I met Gina I didn’t think she was interested in me.” he said. _

_Clarke straightened, surprised by his sudden declaration. His eyes were opened, but he was staring at the ceiling. She didn’t say anything. _

_“She was older than me, and more mature. I mean, I was only three years younger, but I always like a kid when I was with her.” _

_He smiled, thinking about it. Clarke felt something weird in her chest, like a pinch. She couldn’t explain it, but it didn’t feel great.  
She sat back on the couch beside Bellamy. _

_“But she never treated like I was stupid or anything. She was kind, and she actually _listened _to me. I fell in love with her because of that.” he continued. _

_She watched him swallow hard. She didn’t what to say, but she also had a feeling she didn’t need to. He just wanted to talk about it, like he never did before. _

_“And you know what’s crazy? I was convinced she didn’t like me like that, until she kissed me one night.” _

_Clarke looked away from his face. She couldn’t help but feel like she shouldn’t know this. Maybe because it was too intimate. Maybe because she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear this story.  
Bellamy didn’t add anything else, his jaw clenched. Clarke felt his sadness, his pain. It made her mad. He didn’t deserve it. _

_*****_

_At some point, Bellamy fell asleep. _  
_Clarke let him. Better have him here knowing he was doing okay._  
_She watched a stupid Christmas movie, making sure it wasn’t too loud to disturb him._  
_Something was bothering her, however._  
_Within an hour, Bellamy’s phone buzzed at least six times. Each time, Clarke startled._  
_She knew exactly who was sending him all of these texts. Not only because it was easy to guess, but also because she could see a glimpse of Gina’s name on the screen for each text._  
_When Bellamy received another message, Clarke bit her lip. She was torn between ignoring all of them, as it was none of her business, and waking Bellamy up to warn him._  
_The thing was, she didn’t want to let him go. But she also knew Gina was worried about him, and Clarke wasn’t doing anything to reassure her. She didn’t how she felt about Gina. She’d really liked her when she met her, yet she couldn’t reconcile this image with the one she’d made up in her head – of an ungrateful girlfriend._  
_But Clarke didn’t have the right to judge her, and even less to make a decision for her._  
_She sighed._

_“Hey.” she said, gently shaking Bellamy’s shoulder. _

_“Mmmh…” _

_“Wake up.” she whispered. “We gotta go.” _

_It took him sometime to open his eyes and to straighten, but once he did he seemed to be in a better mood.  
Clarke was already putting her shoes on. _

_“Where are we going?” he asked, confused. _

_Clarke got up, picked up his phone on the table and handled it to him. _

_“I’m bringing you home.” _

_*****_

_Clarke stopped the car. _  
_They were parked just a few feet away from the building._  
_Bellamy sighed, but didn’t get out._  
_They’d remained silent during the entire trip. He wasn’t mad at her, she was sure of that, but he still didn’t like the idea of facing Gina again._  
_Clarke knew it would be just fine. Gina’d probably be so relieved she wouldn’t even think about their argument._

_“Thanks.” Bellamy murmured. _

_Clarke didn’t have the time to say anything, because someone had just gone out of the building and was getting closer to them. _  
_Gina._  
_Clarke’d forced Bellamy to call her as they were on their way, so it made sense she’d been waiting for them._  
_Bellamy got out then, and so did Clarke._  
_Gina’s attention was focus on Bellamy, who stood still by the car. She didn’t even hesitate before taking him in her arms, relieved._  
_Clarke looked away._  
_She heard them whispering without being able to understand them. In that moment, she wished she could disappear._  
_After a little while, Gina came to her._

_“Thank you.” she said. _

_Clarke shrugged. _

_“It’s fine.” _

_“No, really.” Gina insisted, putting a hand on her arm. “Thank you for taking care of him.”_

_She smiled at Clarke, with so much honesty Clarke didn’t feel like she deserved it. But she smiled back and nodded, because it was easier to remember she did truly like Gina. She wanted to, at least. _  
_But Clarke didn’t do this for her._  
_Gina then turned around, reaching for Bellamy’s hand. He took it. Clarke didn’t look at him. He was home and safe. It was the only thing mattered._  
_Gina turned her attention back to Clarke one last time before going back to their apartment._

_“I’ll see you around, then.” she told Clarke. _

_“Sure.”_

_Once again, Clarke felt bad. Not because she didn’t want to see Gina again, but because she didn’t know _if_ she wanted to. _  
_She locked eyes with Bellamy for a second, then he was on his way to his home, still holding Gina’s hand._  
_Clarke watched them leave. She waited until they were inside and she couldn’t see them anymore, before getting back into her car._


	17. The rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys ! Long time no see, am I right ?  
I am so sorry for the wait. I tried really hard to publish this sooner, but I didn't have anytime for myself these past two weeks.  
But here it is ! Chapter 17 and 18 can be considered part 1 and part 2 of a whole, but I decided to cut it in two. I really hope you'll like this, thank you so much for your patience ❤️  
Enjoy !

**01/03/2019  
**  
“Hey.”

“Aah!”

Clarke startled – or more like literally jumped a few feet away from Bellamy, who’d just come out of fucking nowhere.

“Dammit.” she swore.

She’d been waiting for him for half an hour, not far from the café they used to go to. He wasn’t late, she was just very anxious and couldn’t stand to stay in that house for another minute, so she’d left early.  
Clarke didn’t hear Bellamy coming. She was distracted by a stupid Instagram post when he leaned down to whisper in her ear the very simple word that scared the shit out of her.  
She stared accusingly at him, as his smile widened. He looked pleased with himself.

“Sorry.” he said, not even trying to sound convincing.

Clarke crossed her arms and frowned, pissed off. She watched as Bellamy pressed his lips together and as his cheeks reddened, trying to contain his laugh.

“Not funny.” Clarke said.

Bellamy shook his head, a small laugh escaping his lips. He cleared his throat and tried to put on a serious face. He almost succeeded – he couldn’t quite stop grinning. Clarke bit the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from smiling. She would _not_ give him that victory. 

“Sorry.” he repeated, actually meaning it this time.

Clarke waited for a few seconds, then shrugged.

“It’s okay.” she said, unfolding her arms.

She rolled her eyes, to show him she wasn’t actually angry at him. He didn’t say anything, he just kept smiling. And looking at her. For a bit too long. Clarke didn’t move, didn’t look away. But Bellamy did.

“So, how about that coffee?” he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

Clarke was suddenly reminded of why they were supposed to meet in the first place – more questions, more answers to give. And one, vivid memory of the other night and what Bellamy’d told her : ‘_I saw you. At the hospital.’_  
She needed, she wanted to talk about it. But she was absolutely terrified.  
She followed Bellamy as he headed to the café, only a street away. She watched his face, trying to understand. Did he remember telling her that? Did he know what it all meant? What did he remember of her visit, exactly?  
The worse part of all of this was the realization that he’d known about this from the beginning of their little meetings. It made so much sense now – of course he would insist to know more about her. She’d come to visit him at the hospital, and he didn’t even know who she was.  
Clarke was surprised he even recalled that, it’d been so brief. She’d stayed only for a minute, just enough time to lock eyes with him.  
And see the confusion in his eyes.  
She remembers the pain she felt, because she’d been hoping it was all a lie. He had to remember her.  
But he didn’t.

“Shit.” Bellamy said.

He stopped, and so did Clarke.

“What is it?” she asked.

Bellamy was rummaging through his bag, frowning.

“I thought…”

He kept looking, getting a few stuffs out of his bag and holding them however he could – with his left hand, or his lips, or in between his legs. Clarke helped carry a few things as she waited, a bit confused. Finally, he gave up and sighed, letting go of his bag, which hanged on his side. With his free hand, he took the papers caught between his pressed lips.

“I forgot the drawings.” he declared, clearly upset.

“Oh.”

Bellamy energetically put all of his things back into his bag, sighing.

“It’s fine. We can j-“

“Change of plans.” Bellamy interrupted her.

He straightened up, as he took his keys from her hand.

“We’re going to my apartment.” he declared, determined.

Clarke froze.

“What?”

Bellamy had already turned his back on her, and was on his way. Clarke caught up with him.

“Bellamy, it’s no big deal…”

“Yes, it is.”

“Hey.” she said, grabbing his arms and forcing him to stop. “Look at me.”

She had to fiscally struggle to get him to stop moving, using her body as a weight. He clenched his jaw, but did as she said. Their faces were close, but she didn’t flinch.

“I will tell you what you want, Bellamy. With or without those drawings.” she told him, firmly.

She couldn’t actually believe she’d said that.  
Bellamy seemed to relax, just a little.

“I know. But it’s important to me, Claire.” he said, his voice soft.

She wanted to insist they should go to the café, but with him being so close, and looking at her like this… she was suddenly at loss of words. Her heartbeat accelerated, and for a second she was Clarke Griffin and he was Bellamy Blake, and they were back in her workshop with paint on her face and anchor on his fingers. And he remembered her. He…  
Clarke stepped away from him, looking down.

“Okay.” she only said.

Bellamy remained silent long enough for Clarke to wonder what he was thinking.

“Thank you.” he finally said, almost like a whisper, and started walking again.

At that very moment, thunder roared, and Clarke felt in her whole body.

“It’s about to rain.” she said.

She was kinda hoping it would convince Bellamy to stay at the café. The truth was, she wasn’t sure she was ready to spend an entire afternoon at his place, just the two of them. It wasn’t the same at Monty and Harper’s house. It didn’t feel so… personal.

“We’re not far.” Bellamy said, unfazed.

* * *

** _15/01/2016 _ **

_“It’s pouring, out there. You sure you wanna head home now?” Clarke asked Bellamy, as she looked out the window. _

_Drops of water were cascading down the glass, obscuring the view. The sound of the rain falling invaded the apartment within a minute. Clarke turned the light on, as the room seemed suddenly darker.  
Bellamy shrugged, slumped in his chair as if he’d lost all energy._

_“Yeah… I don’t know.” he said, hesitating. _

_Clarke sat on his desk, just next to him, her legs hanging in the air. _

_“You can wait until it calms down. We can order something to eat.” she suggested. _

_It was convenient for the both of them. Bellamy didn’t have to face this terrible weather, and Clarke didn’t have to eat dinner all alone, as she often did. She liked being alone, sometimes it was everything she wanted, but it felt also good to have someone to talk to. She missed that, a bit. Also, she knew nobody was waiting for Bellamy to get home. Gina was gone for almost two weeks, and Bellamy seemed to avoid his place more than ever, probably to forget her absence. Clarke’d seen him more in two weeks than she had within an entire month.   
Bellamy sighed, but with a small smile in the corner of his mouth. _

_“Okay.” he said. _

_Clarke got on her feet, excited. _

_“Great. Let’s go downstairs.”_

_******_

_They ordered sushi.  
Or more like, Clarke ordered, and Bellamy spent 15 minutes observing Clarke’s full shelf of DVDs. _

_“You have so many. It’s quite impressive.” he said, still scanning the titles of each of them. _

_Clarke smiled, coming closer to him. _

_“Most of them are my dad’s. He loved cinema. Some weekends we spent our days watching one movie after another. Some of them I’ve seen like a hundred times.” _

_She pointed to a row with a bunch of movies from the 70s and 80s. _

_“He loved science fiction, I see.” Bellamy noticed. _

_Clarke nodded. _

_“And cowboys. It’s too bad there wasn’t a film about both, he would’ve been hysterical. Hey, that’s a great idea for your book. Cowboys in space.”_

_Bellamy laughed. _

_“I’ll keep that in mind.” _

_His eyes finally reached the bottom of the shelf, where all of Clarke’s favorite movies were._

_“I guess that’s yours.” he said. _

_“You guess well.” Clarke smiled. _

_He leaned down to pick up the Harry Potter box, with all eight films in it._

_“I have to tell you something.” he said as he straightened up, his face suddenly very serious. _

_Clarke frowned. _

_“What is it?”_

_Bellamy turned towards her, staring intensely at her. _

_“I never watched a Harry Potter movie in its entirety.” he declared, his voice low. _

_Clarke gaped at him for a few seconds, in shock. For some reason, she always assumed he was a fan of the series. _

_“What? Not even one?” _

_“Not even one.” Bellamy said, apologetically. _

_Clarke crossed her arms. _

_“This is a scandal. A betrayal.” she told him, offended. _

_Bellamy grinned. _

_“Yeah, yeah. I know who dies. Or, what they look like. I also know there’s, like, ten people with a name that ends with ‘us’. Sirius, Albus, Magnus, Augustus…” _

_Clarke rolled her eyes._

_“At least you know two names out of ten.” she laughed. _

_She took the box from his hands. _

_“We’re doing a binge. Tonight.” she decided, because it was a duty. _

_******_

_“What if I’m Slytherin… Aren’t Slytherins evil?” Bellamy asked her lazily, his eyes closing and opening repeatedly, as if he was struggling to keep them open. _

_They’d just started the Goblet of Fire, and they’d kinda lost track of time. _

_“Hey! I’m a Slytherin!” Clarke objected._

_Bellamy opened his eyes widely, and closed him again before he could even talk. _

_“You are…?” _

_“Slytherins aren’t all evil, it’s a cliché. We’re cunning. And just as ambitious as Gryffindors, but at least _we_ admit it.” _

_Bellamy snorted. _

_“So… you’re saying… I’m Gryffindor?” he asked, the words coming out slowly. _

_“Yeah… Or maybe Hufflepuff. Probably a bit of both.” _

_“What’s Haflefuf…?”_

_“It’s the kindest, most loyal people. It’s truly underrated, in my opinion. People tend to say they’re idiots, but I don’t agree. We need more Hufflepuff in life. And I actually think you could fit in this house, ‘cause you’re v-“_

_Clarke was interrupted by the feeling of Bellamy’s head falling on her shoulder. She didn’t dare to move, taken by surprised. She listened to his even breathing, concluding he’d just fallen asleep right there and then, deciding she would be comfortable enough to sleep on. She smiled, because he’d been listening to her debating about his Hogwarts house for half an hour even though he didn’t really care, and yet he’d resisted until he couldn’t anymore.  
Clarke tried to move as slowly as possible, careful not to move his head from her shoulder, as she reached for the remote and turned the TV off. She twitched her nose as his black curls tickled her face. She resisted laughing when she turned her head just enough to see the pout on his lips – he looked like a baby deeply sleeping. It was cute. Too cute, because she didn’t have the heart to disturb him. But what was she supposed to do ? It was 2am, and he was way too tired to get home, even if she was driving. Well, if he minded staying over he’d left earlier, she told herself. Maybe she shouldn’t let him on the couch for the night though, even if she wished she could spend the night with his head on her shoulder.  
Clarke frowned, and shook her hand. She didn’t mean that. Of course, she would wake him up, and spend the night in her own room. Far from him.  
She straightened.  
Bellamy’s head fell, and handed up on her legs. He barely grumbled.  
_‘Great’_, she thought.  
Now the situation had gotten worse. Clarke was not thinking about what they could look like, from the outside. She was not thinking she’d like for him to fall asleep like this every day, nope.  
She was _not_. _

_“Bell, wake up.” she said, determined to put an end to this awkward moment. _

_“Mmhhh…”_

_She shook his shoulders. His head shook on her legs, too, his black curls all over the place. _

_“C’mon. You can’t sleep here. You’d regret it.” _

_Her couch truly wasn’t the place to take a nap, her back had learned that pretty quickly.  
Bellamy wasn't moving, nor responding.  
Clarke sighed. She got up suddenly, Bellamy almost falling on the floor as he was propelled from his spot. That, at least, seemed to partially wake him. He moaned and grumbled things Clarke couldn’t understand, but he didn’t sound pleased._

_“You left me no choice.” she felt the need to explain, knowing he probably wasn’t listening anyway. _

_Before he could settle back comfortably in the couch, she took his arm with her two hands and tried to get him on his feet. She was suddenly reminded of her struggle during the first night she’d brought him here. He was so heavy. _

_“C’mon, you gotta help me there…”_

_Bellamy straightened up a bit, probably more because he was disturbed in his sleep than because he complying to Clarke’s request. _

_“What…?” he murmured. _

_“I gotta get you up there.” _

_It was difficult, and slow, and exhausting, but Bellamy did finally get on his feet at some point. He hold on to her and walked, half asleep, so it didn’t feel as hard to walk up the stairs as it’d been when he was drunk, that first night.  
They’d barely reached the mattress when he literally collapsed on it, taking Clarke with him. _

_“Dammit.” she swore. _

_She was stuck under him, half of his body pressing her against the mat, his lips almost touching her neck. Clarke shivered. _

_“For fuck’s sake. I hate you.” she grumbled, because he was asleep again anyway. _

_She pushed against his chest, hard, and got herself from under him, trying to ignore the feeling of his body against hers. She sighed, finally free of any physical touch with Bellamy Blake. Not that it was a big deal to touch him, obviously. Whatever. It wasn’t like he was cute or anything. Or, you know, in a relationship.  
Clarke got up from the mat, shaking her head. As she made sure Bellamy was fully covered by the blankets, she swore to herself she’d never insist on watching all Harry Potter movies again.  
  
_


	18. The meal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi !  
Merry Christmas to you all ❤️ I worked quite a lot on this chapter, and it is definitely one my favorite. I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I do 😁  
And thank you for all your support, it's so encouraging ! 😍

** _16/01/2016_ **

_It was the smell, more than the light of day, that woke Clarke up. It took her some time to understand what was going on, as she struggled to open her eyes. It didn’t make sense, that smell. But not in a bad way… it smelled good.  
And suddenly everything was clear.  
Her eyes opened. All her senses were alert. Her stomach growled.  
Food.  
Someone was cooking at her place.  
Wait. But she lived alone.  
She straightened up, panicked. Who the fuck up w… oh.  
A second wave of realization hit her as she remembered Bellamy’s curls tickling her face when he’d laid his head on her shoulder and had fallen asleep. He’d slept on the mattress in her workshop for the second time since they’d met, which was kinda surprising knowing literally nobody else ever slept at her place since she’d move in.  
The truth was, she’d expected him to leave before she woke up. She was pretty sure he didn’t intend to fall asleep on her couch.  
So… was he doing what she thought he was doing?  
She got up from bed, put an old sweater on, and was about to leave her room until she suddenly was very aware of what she looked like. She stopped, her hand on the door handle, sighed then circled back around. She headed to the small mirror on the wall facing her bed and leaned in. She felt both relieved and discouraged at the sight of her face. Relieved, because she’d just avoided a catastrophe. Discouraged, because she looked terrible. Her hair was all over the place, her eyes were small, and she still had pillow marks on the left side of her face. Well, she had some work to do. She bit her lip, feeling guilty because she wanted to look good for him. But she wouldn’t want anyone so see her like this, anyway. There was nothing wrong with that.  
She straightened up, picked up her brush, and tried to put some order in those messy hair. She ended up putting them in a ponytail. Quick, simple, effective. Her bedroom was linked to the bathroom – the smallest place of the apartment – which allowed her to wash her face a bit without having to face Bellamy first. Ten minutes later, she looked and felt much better. She still had to take a breath before she got out, though.  
The smell immediately intensified the second she opened the door. It smelled so, so good. Clarke discretely made her way to living room and the counter on her right, as if she was afraid to disturb him. He didn’t see her coming. He had in back on her, busy cooking was looked like… pancakes, she concluded, leaning on the side to see what it was. She smiled, watching his curls going all over the place simultaneously with each of his movements. She watched the muscles on his back and the way his shirt was sticking to his skin, because it was too tight. She knew he was… well. Well built. But that was something she’d been refusing to focus on – which is probably why she was surprised to see how muscular he actually was. Was he always like this? Maybe…  
She kept looking at his back and his arms and his curls for God knows how long, lost in her thoughts, until her eyes inevitably went down his body, reaching the curve of his perfect a-  
Bellamy turned around.  
Clarke’s whole body tensed, her eyes widening in terror, terrified he’d seen her… staring at…_

_“Oh hey!” he said, a huge smile on his face. “Didn’t hear you coming.” _

_She’d probably lost like, ten years of her life in that moment. Her heart had stopped beating. _

_“Hey.” she said, swallowing hard, hoping her face wasn’t too red. _

_She’d never felt so ashamed in her entire life. What was wrong with her. He was her _friend_. She probably just need to get laid, it’d been a while.  
Bellamy put the pancakes on a plate next to him, completely oblivious to what had just happened in Clarke’s head. _

_“You slept well?” he asked. _

_Clarke cleared her throat, staring at her hands. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to look at him the eyes ever again. _

_“Uh, yeah. You?” _

_“I’m getting used to that mat.” he said, and she looked up just long enough to see him winking at her, which made her lose three more years of her life. She tried to laugh it off, as if she wasn’t struggling breathing normally.  
This was getting out of hand, and utterly ridiculous. _

_“So, I thought…” Bellamy started, “since you let me invade your personal space all the time, the least I could do is breakfast.” _

_He put the plate of pancakes on the counter in front of her. _

_“I’m a great cook, by the way.” he said, smiling proudly. _

_Clarke couldn’t help but roll her eyes. _

_“Sure.”_

_Bellamy crossed his arms, scowling exaggeratedly._

_“Are you doubting my word?” _

_“I’m just saying you can’t be very objective.” Clarke explained, shrugging. _

_She knew him well enough to know how to tease him. And this was exactly the kind of thing that led to a stupid debate between her and Bellamy.  
She startled when suddenly, out of nowhere, Bellamy’s face was only a few inches away from hers.  
Clarke lost about another fifteen years of her life. Damn, she wouldn’t live long.  
What the hell. _

_“There are many things you can question about me.” he said, his stare way too intense for this type of conversation. “My cooking skills are not one of them.” _

_Clarke wouldn’t move. She didn’t even quite understand what he’d just told her, her attention focused on how close he was. Too close. _

_“Okay.” she only managed to say. _

_Bellamy straightened, a smile at the corner of his lips. Clarke let a long breath out, not totally recovered from what’d just happened. She picked up the fork beside her, glad to have something else to look at. _

_“Let’s have a taste of these pancakes, then.” she said, picking up the maple syrup already beside her._

_Clarke ended up eating way more than she originally planned, and was forced to recognize Bellamy _was_ good at this. They were the best pancakes she’d ever eaten, which made her very curious to know what else he could cook. _

_“I’ve been taking care of my sister ever since I was a child. Cooking for her was probably the best part. My mom was a great cook, too. She taught me a lot.” he explained to her. _

_He was seated in front of her, his head resting on his arms crossed on the counter. He’d been mostly watching her eat, which she’d stopped doing because it was already too much. _

_“Then I cooked for someone else.” he said, his voice lower. _

_He didn’t have to say who for her to understand.  
He straightened and sighed. _

_“I guess I missed it. Having someone to cook for.” he said, playing with his hands. _

_Clarke smiled, touched by his words. _

_“Well, I missed having someone to have breakfast with. It didn’t happen to me in so long.” she said. _

_Bellamy looked up. _

_“When was the last time?” he asked. _

_“Uhh…” Clarke took the time to think about her answer. “Probably with Lexa. Back when I thought she was the love of my life.” _

_She still had this idyllic memory of her in her head. She remembered the frenzy of heart beating at the sight of Lexa next to her as she was waking up. She truly was in love with her._

_“What happened?” Bellamy asked, hesitant, as if he was scared to upset her. _

_Clarke shrugged. _

_“Life happened. I loved her, she loved me. But at some point, it’s just not enough.” she said. “We realize we were both happier without each other. So, we moved on.” _

_Bellamy was staring at her, but he didn’t seem to be there with her. He was frowning, lost in his thoughts. After a few seconds, he nodded. _

_“Did you regret it?” _

_Clarke remained silent for a while, not because she didn’t want to tell him, but because she’d never really thought about it. It was just… obvious to her._

_“It’s never easy to let go of someone. I had to grieve this imaginary future I wanted to have with her. But no, I don’t regret it. ‘Cause it was just that, a fantasy.” she said, surprised to find the words so easily. _

_She watched Bellamy clenched his jaw, confused to see him so… disturbed by what she’d just told him. Then, the realization hit her.  
He was projecting himself on her. He’d been looking for answers, and she wasn’t sure she’d given him what he wanted.  
Suddenly, she didn’t what to say or do. She should’ve been careful with him. He probably didn’t need to hear these kinds of things. He was probably really hurt. She wanted to take his hand, to reassure him, but hesitated.  
She didn’t have the time to think about it for too long, because the next second Bellamy shook his head, then grinned. _

_“So, am I Gryffindor or…?” he asked, teasing her. _

_Clarke smiled, relieved. _

_“Gryffindor. Definitely.” _

* * *

**01/03/2019**

“Oh, fuck!” Clarke exclaimed, out of breath.

It was pouring, just like she’d predicted. They were both running, Bellamy holding his bag above his head, a few feet away from her. They were both soaking wet, anyway.

“Here!” she heard Bellamy said.

He stopped finally, opening the door to a building entrance. Clarke sped up, eager to finally have a roof above her head and feel warm. She entered the building, Bellamy closing the door right behind. Clarke leaned on a wall, catching her breath, listening to the muffled sound of the rain outside. Neither Bellamy nor her said anything for a few minutes, both exhausted by the race against the weather.  
Then, out of nowhere, Bellamy burst out laughing.  
Clarke turned towards him, frowning.

“What’s so funny?”

He didn’t answer, still laughing and looking at her. Clarke couldn’t help but smile, as she noticed his hair going in every direction, his clothes sticking to his body, the drops of water running down his face. He looked a bit ridiculous, and she probably looked the same.

“Sorry.” Bellamy said, calming down.

He still had a sly smile on his face, though, which lead Clarke to cross her arms.

“I told you it was about to rain.” she said, as if she was lecturing a child.

Bellamy smiled even bigger.

“I know. Again, I’m sorry.” he said.

He walked past her towards the elevator.

“C’mon. My apartment is on the 3rd floor.”

*****

“Here.” he said, handing her a shirt, sweatpants, a pair of socks and a towel.

“Thank you.” she said, as she took them.

“It probably won’t fit… but, you know, we’ll just have to wait until your clothes dry out.” he shrugged, embarrassed.

“It’s fine.”

Even if it wasn’t fine, really, because she wasn’t emotionally prepared to be in Bellamy’s apartment, wearing his clothes, and talking about a past only she remembered. It was a lot too handle. She was so overwhelmed she could barely move, because somehow she felt like everything could go wrong within a second.  
Bellamy pointed at a door on the left side of the corridor.

“This is the bathroom. You can change there. I’ll go in my room.” he said.

His hand was still hanging in the air, and she realized he was letting her go first. She looked down and walked past him. It was a small place, which was only making things worse because it felt like she couldn’t escape him. He was always near.

“Thank you.” she said again, opening the bathroom door.

She didn’t have the courage to look at him, instead she hurried up into the room as if she was trying to hide from him. She sighed once the door was closed behind her.  
It was just so weird. This wasn’t how she’d planned out the day. She’d never wished to end up at his place, with him. It felt so intimate, like she shouldn’t be there.  
She turned the light on – the sky had darkened so much it almost seemed like they were in the middle of the night. The bathroom was small, with a shower on her left and a sink on her right. Bellamy’s stuff was scattered a bit everywhere on small dressers. She resisted the urge to observe everything she was noticing, shaking her head. She got to the sink, putting the pile of clothes down on a dresser beside her, and finally got a look at her face in the mirror.  
She suddenly understood why Bellamy had laughed so hard. Her mascara had run down her face - making her look like one of these girls who just had a terrible breakup in Hollywood movies – her short hair was curling, her nose was red. Not her best look, frankly.  
She took her shirt off and washed her face first, her eyes landing on Bellamy’s toothbrush. That simple thing was enough to make her feel weird, as if she was invading his space. She turned around to pick up the shirt he’d given her. She held a breath as she put it on, but couldn’t ignore the smell once it was on her. It smelled just like him, which she hated. She put the sweatpants on, which were falling on her hips, then the socks. Nothing fitted her, obviously, but at least she felt warm.  
She hesitated before getting out of the bathroom. She had to count to three to have the courage to open the door.  
The first thing she noticed was the sound of something boiling. Then, it was the smell.  
Bellamy was cooking for her.  
She tiptoed towards the living room, mostly because she didn’t want him to notice she was done. She tilted her head to the side, until she was able to see him near the stove, his back on her. She was hit by the memory of him cooking breakfast for her at her place – a time when everything seemed so bright, so joyful. She never thought she'd see such a view again. She didn’t think she deserved it, either.  
She got closer, deciding that this time she wouldn’t just stand there, watching him.

“What are you cooking?” she asked.

Bellamy turned around, seemingly happy to see her.

“Uh… something very original.” he said, pointing at the pan. “_Spaghetti alla Bolognese._”

She laughed at his poor imitation of the Italian accent.

“Sounds good to me.” she said.

She leaned in on the counter beside him, as he was stirring the tomato sauce with seasoning. She remained silent for a while, observing him.

“You cooked for me.” she said, suddenly.

That made him stop to look at her.

“I did?”

She shrugged, as if it was nothing important. It actually was for her, at the time.

“Yeah. A few times.”

They locked eyes, their arms almost touching. Clarke froze, unable to move. They remained like this for so long Clarke felt her heart beating faster, and had to look away. Bellamy didn’t. It felt like he was trying to see through her, to understand what she was thinking. His stare was too intense, she had a hard time controlling her emotions. She was hoping her cheeks weren’t red.  
Bellamy focused back on the pasta, fortunately.

“It’s almost done.” he said.

A few minutes later, they were silently eating at the small table in the middle of the room, which according to Bellamy wasn’t often put to use.

“It’s good.” Clarke said, wrapping spaghetti around her fork.

Bellamy shrugged.

“It’s simple.”

“Yeah. But it’s good.” she said, smiling at him.

Bellamy smiled back, his eyes searching hers. He seemed to hesitate before asking :

“What did I cook for you?”

Clarke looked up, thinking.

“Mmh… Pancakes. A soup.”

“My pancakes are great.” Bellamy proudly said.

Clarke laughed.

“They are.”

She knew he probably wanted more details, but the words were stuck in her throat. She didn’t know how much she would be able to talk about that time, before he’d start asking himself…  
She shook her head, refusing to think about it.  
She had an idea, suddenly.

“Where are the drawings?” she asked him, recalling why they’d come here in the first place.

Bellamy got up, picking them up from the couch. She didn’t even notice they were there when she’d come in. He handed them to her. She knew exactly which one she wanted.

“Here.” she said, putting it in front of him on the table.

Bellamy sat down, his eyes focused on the drawing.

“That was the first time you cooked for me.” she said.

She didn’t have to look at it to know what it was – the small kitchen of her previous apartment, Bellamy with his back on her. If she had the time and the envy, she would add so much more details. Bellamy didn’t say anything.

“It was for breakfast. You… uh, slept at my place because it was late… but we didn’t… I mean…” Clarke tried to explain, babbling.

She realized, as she was talking, that he could interpret what she’d just told him in a whole different way. Bellamy remained silent, frowning. She had a feeling he wanted to say something to her, but didn’t know how to. And it probably had nothing to do with cooking.  
He sighed, put the drawing down, and looked at her.

“Claire…”

Clarke winced just a little, that fake name reminding her of the many things she was hiding from him.

“What happened?” Bellamy asked.

She heard the sadness in his voice, and she felt like her heart was ripped off her chest. She put her hands under the table, because she knew they would start shaking. She looked down, trying to breath normally.  
It was the one question she’d been dreading he would ask.

“What do you mean?” she said, her voice shaking, as if she didn’t know what he wanted to hear.

“I think you know what I mean.”

But Clarke couldn’t do anything, couldn’t say it.  
It was too much.  
She heard Bellamy getting up from his chair, and when he kneeled down beside her she closed her eyes, because it only made things worse.

“Please.” he said, his voice so low.

She startled when she felt his hand take hers. She wanted to get away from him, but she didn’t.

“Look at me.”

She couldn’t.  
But his other hand went to her face, gently moving her hair to the side so he could see her. His hand remained on her cheek, so warm.  
Clarke sighed, then finally took a look at him.  
He didn’t seem angry or desperate. No, he was smiling – but she could still see the sadness in his eyes.

“What were we?” he asked.

Clarke straightened, shocked.

“What?”

“I just… I know you were important to me. And I was important to you. But… why? Why all these lies?” he declared, the words coming out as if he’d been holding them in for too long.

Clarke was speechless. She should’ve seen this coming.  
She straightened.

“You saw me at the hospital. You remember that, right?” she decided to ask him, because if they had to be honest tonight then they should be honest on this, too.

Bellamy eyes widened, surprised. He took his hand off her face, but she kept looking at him.  
He nodded.

“That’s why you insisted so much to see me again, is that it?” she asked.

Bellamy straightened and got up. She already missed the warmth of his hand on hers.

“Yes.” he admitted. “Because it only confirms what I’ve been suspecting from the beginning. You cared about me much more than you want to admit.”

She could see his whole body was tensed. So many emotions were battling in his eyes. Clarke felt disorientated, defeated. What was she supposed to say? She knew she would pay for her lies, someday.

“And you know what?” Bellamy continued. “I don’t even blame you for this. You probably have you reasons.”

He sighed.

“You knew my closest friends. My sister. Yet all of you act as if you’d never met.” he finally said.

Clarke felt like her entire world was ending. How stupid she had been, to think that he didn’t know anything at all. To think she was protected, in her own bubble of lies.  
She closed her eyes to hold back her tears.  
Once again, Bellamy took her face in his hands, this time forcing to look up at him. She opened her eyes, but a tear fell on her cheek. Bellamy wiped it off with his thumb. She could barely look at him in the eyes, but she could feel his breath on her face.

“Why?” he begged, his voice shaking. “Please, tell me why…”

He stopped, his voice stuck in his throat. He closed his eyes too, then leaned in just a little. Clarke caught her breath, but only their foreheads were touching. She could almost feel his nose against hers, the warmth of his skin. Without thinking, she put a hand on his chest, right next to his heart. He was breathing so fast.  
_Bzz. Bzz. Bzz._  
They startled.  
Bellamy’s phone was buzzing.  
But he didn’t move, he remained in the exact same position, and Clarke didn’t push him away. He didn’t answer the call, and soon it was silent in the room again.  
_Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.  
_Bellamy sighed.  
He waited for a few seconds, then took his hands of her face and moved away from her. Clarke immediately wanted to run back into his arms, knowing she shouldn’t feel that way.  
Bellamy picked up the phone, frowning.

“Lincoln?... What?... Oh. Yes. Yes. I’m coming. I’ll be here in a few minutes.” Bellamy said hastily.

Clarke got up, confused.

“What happening?” she asked.

Bellamy hung up, shocked.

“My sister had her baby.” he declared.


	19. The lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone !  
Yes, I know, it's been a while... Sorry 😅  
To be honest with you, I've been very struggling with writing recently. I hope things will get better soon. Thank you for your patience.  
Oh, and I can't believe this fic has now 500+ kudos ! This is amazing. Thank you so, so much ❤️ This, and your wonderful comments are helping me so much to find the motivation to write. Without you, this story probably wouldn't have more than 3 chapters. So yeah, again, thank you.  
This chapter is a special one to me. Very emotional. I hope you'll love it as much as I do, can't wait to see you reactions 😁

**04/02/2019**

None of this was supposed to happen.  
Clarke didn’t want any of this.  
But it happened out of nowhere, unpredictable, unavoidable.  
She stood still, cursing herself internally. She should’ve been better prepared. After all, nothing last.  
It was stupid really – how and where it happened. Clarke just needed to go shopping, since she had nothing left in her fridge. So she found herself in Walmart, struggling to hold bottles of milk and orange juice in her arms. Maybe if she’d just put it all in the shopping cart, she wouldn’t be in this situation. But no, of course she insisted to pick something else up. She extended her hand, and that’s when one of the bottles fell to the ground.  
Nothing dramatic. That wasn’t the most important part.  
She sighed, already kneeling to pick it back up, when she spotted the black shoes stopping near her. She watched long, brown hair, covering the face of the woman taking the bottle, then straightening up.  
Clarke didn’t immediately notice.  
She straightened up, too.

“Here.” said the woman, handing her the bottle.

“Thanks.” Clarke said, taking it back.

Clarke raised her gaze then, her eyes locking with the woman’s.  
_‘Fuck’_, she thought.  
Both women remained silent for a second.

“Clarke?” Emori asked, as if she couldn’t believe it was her.

Clarke swallowed, hard. She was used to anxiety, she’d been fighting it almost her entire life. Which is why she knew, at that very moment, that she wouldn’t be able to control anything. Her chest felt heavy already, the panic taking over her every thought.

“What are you doing here?” Emori asked, her eyes widening. “I thought you were…”

“Em! I found the eggs. Do you think we sh-“ someone said, behind her.

At first, Clarke couldn’t see him, hidden behind Emori. But then, the brunette stepped aside, turning around to face Murphy. That’s when he spotted Clarke, and stopped talking. She watched him going through a lot of different range of emotions within a few seconds – shock, confusion, anger. She did nothing, said nothing. Clarke was just… frozen. Numb and overwhelmed at the same time.  
It was over. Everything.  
Murphy knew. He knew what happened. He knew why she shouldn’t be here.  
And he knew she’d come back.

“What the h-“

She didn’t hear what he said, after that. She wasn’t even conscious of what she was doing, only that she couldn’t breathe. She had to leave. It was over. Soon, everyone would know. It was over, over, over.  
She must’ve gotten rid of the bottles somehow, because she wasn’t holding them anymore. Maybe she’d dropped them, or put them somewhere. She couldn’t remember. She realized she was on the parking lot, her feet leading her to her car. The next moment, she was breaking down completely, her whole body shaking, hidden in the vehicle. A part of her wished she could die there, just like that.

*****

Claire wasn’t answering.  
And Bellamy had a bad feeling.  
It wasn’t about the other night, because they’d agreed on meeting again later on the week – which was today. If Claire didn’t want to see him, he believes she would’ve said so. So, it was very unlike her to not show up at the café, and to not even respond to his text. He’d called her three times too, and nothing.  
It frustrated him, being in the dark. If something happened to her in the last few days, Bellamy didn’t know about it. He’d spent all his time by his sister and his nephew’s side – Noah. He’d put his issues aside for this moment, his heart busting with joy and pride for his Octavia and her little boy. It felt strange, seeing his baby sister having a baby herself, but also amazing. The boy looked way too much like his dad, though.  
But now, Bellamy’s thoughts were all focused on Claire. Something was wrong.  
Finally, he’d decided to go to Monty and Harper’s house. He had to make sure she was doing okay, and the only way to do that at the moment was to confront her directly, hoping she wouldn’t push him away.  
He sighed, staring at the front door. He tried to convince himself that it was nothing. Maybe he was being paranoid. Maybe her phone was just out of battery, and Claire would be surprised to find him there.  
He rang. And waited. He didn’t want to insist too much because, again, he could be making things up in his head. But a few minutes passed, and no response. He rang again.  
Nothing happened.  
He frowned, feeling more and more concerned about the situation. Where could she be? What happened? Did he said something wrong? What if she’d left town without telling him?  
He felt his phone buzzing in his jean pocket. He immediately picked it up, hoping it was Claire. He couldn’t help but feel disappointed when he saw it was only a text from Miller.

_‘Hey, you home?’ _

Bellamy quickly typed something. He and Miller still weren’t in very good terms, but he didn’t want to be a total jerk to him.

_‘Nope, had something to do.’ _

He put the phone back in his pocket, and after a hesitation, rang the doorbell again. For the last time, he promised himself.  
His phone buzzed for the second time, and since he didn’t have anything else to do but to stare at that door, he looked it up.

_‘Where are u? Maybe we could talk.’_ was asking Miller.

Bellamy frowned. Why all of these questions? It was very unlike his friend to insist so much. Plus, Bellamy wasn’t sure he was ready to face Miller, yet. There was so much to be said. Bellamy winced, unsure of what to answer to that.  
The door opened.  
Bellamy looked up suddenly, taken aback. A smile was already on his lips. _Thank God_. At this point he didn’t expect her to be there. It almost felt like a miracle.  
But it didn’t last long.  
The relief he felt the second he saw the door opening faded the second his eyes landed on her face.  
It was her, Claire.  
And she looked devastated.  
Her short hair, circling her face, was a mess. Her eyes were red and puffy, dark circles under them. Her cheeks seemed wet. She looked pale.  
She seemed so terribly defeated, that Bellamy felt his heart broke in his chest.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice shaking, not even looking at him.

Bellamy was so shocked he didn’t what to say.

“W-What…? Claire… Oh my god…” he only managed to stammer.

He instinctively moved towards her, just a step, but she immediately backed away.

“No…” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Please…”

Bellamy’s heart shattered, as if it could be more broken than it already was. He watched her as she closed her eyes, and the tears rolled on her cheeks. He took a shaky breath, putting his phone back in his pocket. He was not leaving her. Not… like this. Even if she didn’t want him here.

“Claire…” he said, smoothly. “Please, tell me what’s going on.”

But she only shook her hand, struggling not to cry, and still refusing to look at him.

“No…” she said, again.

“Claire…”

“STOP!” she shouted all of the sudden, and Bellamy startled.

He stared at her, completely lost. He didn’t understand. Stop what? What should he do? He put his hands in his hair then put them in his pocket to get them out and play with them. He didn’t know what to do with himself, with his body. And Claire was fully crying.

“Stop!” she repeated. “Stop doing this…”

She hid her face behind her hands, but he could hear the muffled sound of her sobs. This time, her complaints didn’t stop him from getting closer to her. He didn’t touch her, though, afraid of her reaction if he did. 

“What is it?” he asked her, trying his best to sound reassuring.

The last thing he wanted was for her to feel obligated to talk to him. He only wished to be there for her, to help her. And maybe she didn’t need _him_, but leaving her alone wasn’t a great option. She kept stepping back, so much that Bellamy ended up entering the house with her. When he realized this, he slowly closed the door behind him – he was not leaving, so if Claire had to scream at him for some reason, then at least she could do it in private. Bellamy was mentally preparing himself to whatever situation he would have to face. Good or bad. At the moment, it looked pretty bad.  
He didn’t say anything as he was watching her, his back leaning on the door. He didn’t know what to do. He felt useless, powerless. He didn’t dare to do anything. He just knew he had to be with her.

“I can’t do this.” Claire murmured between two sobs.

She turned her back on him then, almost running to the living room, as if she was trying to flee.

“Wait!” Bellamy said, immediately following her.

She turned around for a split second, and seeing he was still close – turned to the right. She disappeared from his sight for a short moment, until Bellamy reached the stairs. She went upstairs, he realized. He didn’t hesitate before walking up to join her. Once upstairs, he stopped. He was in a corridor, with four doors. Three were closed, one was slightly opened. He could hear muffled sounds coming from that room, which made things easier. He knew she probably wanted to leave her alone. But… he couldn’t. Not unless she asked him to, which she didn’t. Yet.  
He took a deep breath, clench his jaw, and came in.  
Claire was pacing in her rooms, her hands clenching her hair. Her breathing was heavy, uneven. She was shaking. That’s when realization hit him – she was having a panic attack.  
Bellamy straightened, and took a step closer.

“Claire, listen to me.”

“No…”

“Just… take a deep breath. Okay? Do it with me.” he said, echoing what she’d told him the night he’d called her.

He remembered how frightened he was, how much he struggled before deciding to phone her. He remembered how peaceful he felt later, just listening to the sound of her voice.  
He was hoping he could do the same for her.

“I – I can’t…” Clarke sobbed, shaking her head.

“Yes, you can. Listen to me. Inhale…” he said, getting closer, his hands raised before him but not quite reaching out to her.

“No… No, no, no.”

“It’s okay.”

He took another step closer. She didn’t back away.

“I… I… This is all…” she tried to say, struggling to breathe properly.

“It’s okay.” He repeated. “Breathe.”

“No, but you don’t understand!” she shouted, stepping back just a little. “You don’t know! I can’t… Don’t you see? Don’t you see what’s happening? What I am… what I’ve become?”

Bellamy shook his head, confused. But he wasn’t hearing what she was saying, not really. The only thing that mattered was her wellbeing. He had to make sure she would be fine. Slowly, very slowly, he put his hand on her arm. He caught his breath, waiting for her to back away once again, but she didn’t. Instead, she kept shouting and crying.

“No… I just… It feels like I’m dying. I’m going to die… I’m…” she said, and he took her in his arms.

It only made her cry harder, but her arms circles around his waist, and she clang to him as if he was the only thing maintaining her alive.

“You’re not going to die.” He murmured in her ear.

“I… It’s too much…”

His hands moved tenderly on her back, in her hair, trying to soothe her.

“It’s okay. Breathe.”

He started to breathe loudly, so that she could focus on him and attempt to do the same. He could feel her shaking, so he tightened his grip around her. He felt the need to protect her, and this feeling was so strong he couldn’t quite explain it. He kept stroking her hair, breathing in and out. She was still sobbing, but she’d stopped shouting.

“You’re okay… You’re okay…” he would whisper, again and again.

His head came to rest on her shoulder, her hair tickling his nose. It felt like they were in an unbreakable bubble. He listened to her breathing, as she was slowly calming down. A small part of his shirt was wet with her tears.  
Their legs were touching the bed, on their left. Without taking his arms off her, Bellamy sat down on it with her. As she stopped sobbing and started breathing normally again, her body relaxed against him, as if it was losing all its energy. She needed to rest.  
Bellamy lied her down with him, making sure she felt comfortable. She remained cuddled up with him, her body shifting slightly so she could lay her head on his chest. He stared at her face, stroking her hair, as her eyes were closing. He kept doing so until she’d fallen asleep in his arms, her hands still clinging to his shirt. She looked so peaceful, so… beautiful. He didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted to be right there, with her, in this bed. He wanted to forget the rest of the world, and spend the rest of his life like this.  
He couldn’t stop touching her hair, her face, her hands. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.  
In this bittersweet moment, he felt… happy. Because he was with her.  
Because his heart was beating too fast and it felt so warm in his chest. And maybe he shouldn’t feel this way.  
But it didn’t matter.  
Because, within a few weeks, his life had completely changed. He’d met this mysterious, clumsy, talented, beautiful girl. She was like an angel fallen from the sky to give him the answers he didn’t even know he was looking for. She was a miracle. She made him feel alive, when he felt like living the life of a stranger.  
Because, sometime during all those days, he’d fallen in love with her.  
Perhaps this realization should’ve shocked him, surprise him. But it was the opposite.  
It just… made sense. As if it was always meant to be.  
Loving her was like coming home. It was like… finding the missing piece of the puzzle.

*****

He must’ve fallen asleep, too, because something startled him. He opened his eyes, not quite comprehending what had woken him up. He felt a bit dizzy, and he couldn’t feel his arms, still tightened around Claire’s body. He smiled as his heart missed a beat, his eyes landing on her face. She was still asleep, which was good. He wouldn’t disturb her.  
He planned on staying with her a bit longer when the doorbell rang – and he realized _that_ was the reason he’d woken up. The sound of the doorbell.  
It rang again, insisting. Bellamy frowned.  
Strange. Was she expecting someone?  
He looked back at her, hesitating. Maybe it wasn’t important…  
It rang again.  
_‘Okay, fine.’_ he thought, sighing. Maybe it was important, after all.  
Careful not to wake her up, Bellamy slowly took his left arm from under her head, and put her hands away from his chest. He already missed her touch, but whoever was at the door was clearly impatient.  
He got up carefully, making sure she remained asleep, then tip toed on his way downstairs. He was a second away from the front door when it rang again.

“Coming!” he said, tired of hearing that sound.

He realized he didn’t have the keys to open the door, obviously. He had to search around for a minute, but fortunately they were easy to find. He hurried to open the door.  
Nothing could’ve prepared him to what he found behind it.  
Bellamy stood there, in shock.

“Miller?”

But Miller didn’t seem surprise to find him there. Instead, he looked… disappointed.

“So it’s true.” He said, sighing.

Bellamy frowned, more confused than ever.

“What are you talking about? How did you know where I was?” Bellamy asked.

Miller shook his head, clenching his jaw. Bellamy could see the anger taking over his eyes.

“I didn’t.” his friend said, coldly. “Murphy told me what I needed to know. I guessed the rest.”

“What?”

Miller took a step closer, threatening.

“Don’t play this game with me, Bellamy. Where is she?”

Bellamy tensed, understanding.  
He knew about Claire. He knew about their little secret.  
Bellamy felt the anger grow inside his chest, remembering Miller was the first to keep things hiding from him.

“You knew her.” he said through his teeth. “You knew her, and you didn’t fucking tell me about her.”

“You don’t even know who she is.” Miller said, raising his voice.

These words only enraged Bellamy even more.

“I don’t know who _you_ are. You’ve been lying to me for the past three years!” Bellamy shouted, slowly losing it.

Miller scoffed.

“And you think she didn’t lie to you?”

That made Bellamy stopped.  
He hated to admit it to himself, but he _had_ doubted Claire in the past. He wished he had an unwavering faith in her, but he remembered her hesitations, or the way she would look down when she answered his questions, sometime. He wanted to contradict Miller, but he couldn’t. He hated that feeling.  
Miller took his silence as a confirmation.

“See? You don’t know what happened. And if you did, you wished you’d never met Clarke before.”

Bellamy froze.  
How did he just call her?

“What…?”

“Bellamy?” a voice said, behind him.

He turned around, and saw her standing there, frowning.  
He watched the shock taking over her face as she realized who was standing in the doorway.  
But Bellamy couldn’t think anymore. He could only hear a name.

“Welcome back, Clarke.” Miller told her, as if he was spiting out the words in her face.

She didn’t move, didn’t say anything.

“… Clarke?” Bellamy asked, because it couldn’t be true.

Her eyes locked with his, then.  
And he immediately understood what she wanted to tell him.  
He wished he didn’t. He wished he was blind.  
_I’m sorry_, she was saying.  
Clarke. Her name was Clarke. And he didn’t know her.  
  



	20. The confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there !  
Ah yes, I know, finally. So sorry for the long wait, especially after this huge cliffhanger. 😅 But ! This is the longest chapter I've written yet. So the wait wasn't for nothing !  
Apparently you guys loved last chapter, and that was the best reward ever. Thank you for your support ❤️ I hope you'll stay around until the end, cause I'm not giving up on that story, no matter how long it takes to write it.  
Also, you may have noticed the number of chapters planned went from 31 to 30. Don't worry, nothing has changed. I just realized it made more sense to put two chapters into one.  
Enjoy this chapter, it is pretty... intense. Can't wait to see what you guys think 😉

** _30/01/2016_ **

_Clarke was bored.  
_ _And uninspired.  
She’d been fidgeting with her brush for about twenty minutes, staring at her canvas as if it could somehow tell her what to do with her hands.  
Well, it didn’t help at all. Instead, she was getting increasingly more frustrated with herself.  
She sighed for the hundredth time.  
Since the canvas wasn’t interesting enough, she turned her attention to Bellamy, seated at his desk. He too was staring intensely at a blank sheet, his hair falling on his face. She watched him for a few seconds, hesitating. She didn’t want to bother him but… actually, she wanted to do just that. She was being petty, but she didn’t really care.  
She got up and walked to him._

_“What ya doin’?” she asked. _

_She sounded like a bored, impatient child waiting for her parents to distract her. But, well, she was desperate. And Bellamy was there. Maybe they could be bored together.  
She sat on his desk as he put his head back, leaning on his chair. _

_“Thinking. Struggling.” he mumbled, closing his eyes. _

_She watched as he brought both of his hands in his hair, massaging his forehead. Her hands twitched and she winced, fighting the impulse to do it herself. He looked so handsome in that moment, it pissed her off a little bit. It should be illegal to look like this. How was she supposed to _not_ stare ? She looked at her feet, trying to think about anything else than Bellamy Blake’s face, and hair, and body. _

_“Yeah, I can’t paint anything either.” she told him. _

_They both sighed. It was a crappy day for artists, apparently. _

_“I think I’m gonna stop for today.” Bellamy said. “My head is spinning.” _

_Clarke took a quick look at him, just enough time to see he was frowning. She started swinging her legs, just to have something to stare at. _

_“Everything okay?” she asked, even if she already had an idea of his answer._

_Bellamy shook his head, letting go of his hair. _

_“Yeah, I mean… I just have a few things to handle, you know.”_

_Clarke nodded. She did know what was going on.  
Gina was coming back in about two weeks. And Bellamy had a hard time thinking about anything else but that. Clarke could see it, and she hated it. And she hated herself for hating it.  
As always when it came to Gina, Bellamy didn’t talk much. Clarke wouldn’t insist either, but sometimes she wanted to. Was he happy? Stressed out? Conflicted? Relieved? She was absolutely clueless. He didn’t seem excited, yet it didn’t feel like he was dreading Gina’s return either. He just… avoided the subject.  
Clarke often wondered about what would happen once they were reunited. What if Gina had the time of her life in Europe, living a life without Bellamy? What if they decided to end their relationship? What if, on the contrary, the distance only made their love stronger?  
Clarke shook her head, refusing to think about this any longer. It was none of her business, and she shouldn’t be making theories about Bellamy’s love life.  
She shouldn’t feel so involved, either. She was his friend. That was all.  
She suddenly lost her train of thoughts when she heard Bellamy chuckle beside her.  
She looked up, surprised.  
He was staring at her, a big smile on his face. _

_“… What?” she asked. _

_Bellamy chuckled. Again. He slowly raised his hand towards her face, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. That simple touch sent chills all the way up to Clarke’s spine. She held her breath. _

_“You’ve got painting on your face.” He said, almost whispering. _

_Clarke didn’t move, didn’t hear what he said. She could only focus on the feeling of his hand on her skin, the sound of her heart beating so fast. It only lasted for a second, and yet time seemed to froze at this exact moment.  
But then it ended, as quick as it’d started.  
Clarke let out a deep breath.  
And Bellamy was still staring mockingly at her, which made her realize what he’d just said. She straightened, frowning. _

_“Well.” she said, just a little bit irritated. “It happens all the time.” _

_She started rubbing her cheek, exactly where his fingers had landed a few seconds ago.  
His grin grew bigger.  
This time, she crossed her arms. _

_“What?” she asked again. _

_Bellamy shrugged, but his eyes were saying so much more. Whatever he was thinking, it was very funny to him.  
She raised one eyebrow, her expression dead serious, expecting an answer. _

_“It’s just…” Bellamy laughed. “You look like a child.” _

_And maybe she should feel offended by his comment, but it didn’t sound like something bad in his mouth. It sounded like something cute, amusing and charming, and it was everything she wanted to be… for him.  
And also because, she _had _been acting like a child. She only got what she deserved.  
Yet that cocky smile on his beautiful face felt like a challenge to her, as her want for revenge kept growing inside of her. A terrible idea was making its way to her mind, and soon she too was smiling, for a whole different reason.  
She got up the desk, rolling her eyes. _

_“Whatever.” she said, feigning irritation. “At least I’m not a grandpa.”_

_‘Contrary to you’, she was clearly implying.  
She turned her back on him, heading for her own, much messier desk.  
She heard Bellamy snorting behind her. _

_“Yeah, I heard that before.” he said, and she knew he was smiling just by the sound of his voice. _

_She started gathering the brushes she’d used a few minutes ago. Thanks to her numerous ideas that led to nowhere, the hairs were covered in paint of all colors. She held them all in her hands, and took them to the small sink on her left. _

_“I wonder why…” she teased him, rolling her eyes. _

_She put the brushes down and turned the water on. She smiled at the sight of her hands. It looked like she’d painted a rainbow on them.  
She turned around to face Bellamy, putting her hands behind her back.  
Bellamy was getting up from his chair, but his eyes were still on her. Her heart missed a bit at the idea of him staring at her all along, even when she wasn’t looking.  
She hated herself for thinking this but… there _had _to be a reason.  
She wasn’t stupid. She’d been in a relationship before. She knew when someone was flirting with her, when someone… _liked_ her.  
It was wrong. It was all wrong.  
But she couldn’t help it.  
Bellamy closed the old, leather covered notebook he was writing on, and walked up to her. His cocky smile remained on his lips as he got closer. Clarke clenched her fists behind her back. _

_“At least I admit it.” he joked. _

_He was now only a few feet away. Close. So close.  
Clarke didn’t hear what he said, only the beating of her heart in her ears.  
She stared at him, silently, for exactly five seconds.  
It was now or never.  
She rose her left hand in front of her, as fast as she could… and left a long, blue mark on Bellamy’s cheek with a single brush stroke. _

_“So now, who looks like a child?” she said, proud of herself. _

_It was stupid really. She’d been holding the brush firmly behind her back, waiting for the right occasion. Bellamy went to her by himself, which made it all so easy.  
Watching him as his face froze, his mouth agape, made it all worth it. Clarke burst out laughing.  
Bellamy remained still for so long Clarke eventually stopped, and frowned. But as she was about to apologize, he leaned in, picked up a brush from the sink, and started rubbing it against her face. Clarke let out a cry, trying to get away from him, but he caught her arm. She tried to protect herself, raising her hands before her, but it didn’t help much. Her face and her arms were already covered in a flashy, green paint. She gave up and picked up other brushes, deciding that at least she would go down fighting.  
Bellamy had the strength to keep her still, but she was fast. It was a mess. They had paint all over them, in their hairs, on their - now ruined – clothes. But they didn’t care, and kept going, laughing and screaming and struggling. _

_“Stop it! You lost, anyway.” Bellamy chuckled, one hand holding both of her wrists, and the other up in the air, to keep the brushes away from Clarke. _

_She winced, fighting against his grip, but he didn’t let go. Instead, his victorious smile grew bigger on his face. _

_“Ugh.” _

_“I already won.” Bellamy said, moving his eyebrows to tease her even more. _

_Clarke struggled a bit longer, then sighed. She rolled her eyes and finally stopped moving._

_“Okay. Fine.” she said, giving up. _

_But Bellamy didn’t move, his eyes narrowing. He was hesitating. Clarke raised one eyebrow, challenging him to let her go. _

_“You’re never gonna let go of this, are you?” he said, wary of her. _

_Clarke took a step closer, her wrists still trapped in his huge hand, staring intensely at him. Her body was pressed against his, she could feel his torso moving to the rhythm of his breathing. His eyes were dark and warm, surrounded by stains of paint of all colors, blending in with in freckles. _

_“Am I?” she said whispering, and it felt harder to breathe suddenly. _

_She leaned in, just a bit. One inch. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.  
She waited, but he didn’t move. His lips parted. So did hers. She felt the heat invade her body. Her heart was about to get out of her chest. Two inches.  
He only kept staring at her.  
She took a breath.  
She stood on her tiptoes.  
She closed her eyes.  
And slowly, very slowly, her face got closer to his. She felt his breath on her cheeks, then her nose was against his. She could almost feel his lips against hers… The world stilled.  
They touched, for a split second.  
Not even a second. Less than that.  
Then her hands were free, her body was cold, and his lips weren’t on hers. _

_“No.” _

_She opened her eyes.  
At the sight of him, her heart dropped, and broke, and shattered into pieces. _

_“I-I can’t… I’m not…” he said, shaking his head. _

_He looked at her as if she’d betrayed him. As if… she’d ruined it all. His eyes were full of disappointment, and anger, and sadness.  
Clarke felt his rejection to her very core, leaving her speechless. The pain was so vivid, so sharp, it brought tears to her eyes.  
Bellamy turned his back on her, pacing, his hands rummaging through his hands. He was breathing heavily, frowning. He seemed so tortured, a part of her wanted to reassure him, to hold him in her arms.  
But she couldn’t.  
Because she’d made a mistake.  
Because she was a stupid, selfish bitch.  
She closed her eyes, as Raven’s face invaded her mind.  
She remembered perfectly the first time she’d met her. Raven found them in each other’s arms in Finn’s apartment. Clarke didn’t know he had a girlfriend. But in that moment, she knew she was the other woman. She’d broken this woman’s heart. The guilt she felt when she looked at Raven’s face, seeing the betrayal in her eyes, was unforgettable. It remained with her, always.  
Raven’s face faded, succeeded by Gina’s.  
And this time, she couldn’t hide behind _‘I didn’t know’_. Because, oh, she knew. He wasn’t hers.  
And she’d tried to kiss Bellamy anyway. _

_“Bellamy. I’m so, so sorry.” she said, choking up. _

_She opened her eyes again.  
He wouldn’t even look at her.  
He didn’t say anything.  
For a few seconds, none of them move. Then he picked up his jacket where he’d left it on the chair, and walked up to the trapdoor, looking down. _

_“I have to go.” he said, coldly. _

_“Bellamy…” she said, taking a few steps toward him. _

_“Don’t.” _

_She stopped.  
His whole body tensed. _

_“Don’t. Follow. Me.” he said, through his clenched teeth._

_He seemed to hesitate to say something else. He didn’t.  
He opened the trapdoor and disappeared behind it, still covered in paint. She listened as he went down the stairs, and slammed the door behind him.  
Tears fell on Clarke’s cheeks. _

* * *

**06/03/2019**

_The headlights. Again. Getting closer, faster. _

_“Bellamy, listen.” _

_He tried to calm down, to do as she said. _

_“What?”_

_“Listen. Why won’t you listen?” she kept telling him._

_ The headlights. The headlights. _

_“Why won’t you listen, Bellamy? Listen to me!” _

_He tried to look at her, to focus on her. Her face was blurry, her words were hard to hear. She was telling him something, but it was as if a wall was between them. He tried to get closer to her, to take her hand, but the more he tried the harder it got. _

_“Gina!” he screamed, at last, as the light blinded him. _

Bellamy woke up.  
It was the third time he was having this dream. On the one hand, he was getting used to it. It made it easier to calm down, and not give into panic. On the other hand, it was both worrying and intriguing to him. It didn’t made sense, not really. He wasn’t sure these dreams even had a meaning. Yet, they kept coming back.  
He straightened on his bed, stretching his arms. For once, he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night. Rays of sunshine where illuminating the room, making him wince. He waited for a few seconds as his eyes adjusted to the light.  
His phone buzzed beside him.  
He sighed, looking at it. He already had an idea of who it could be.  
Miller, Octavia or Clair… Clarke.

“Clarke.” he repeated out loud.

Her real name.  
The name she’d been hiding from him since the very beginning. His heart still broke each time he was reminded of that. He thought he could trust her, and that she trusted him. But apparently, he wasn’t worth knowing who she really was.  
Who was she, exactly? Was he supposed to believe everything she’d told him? Or did she made it all up, like she’d created Claire Graham?  
The worse part of all of this was, it all made sense. Octavia and Miller had never heard of Claire, because she didn’t exist. He couldn’t find her on Facebook, because her real name was Clarke Griffin. He should’ve known.  
But who was he supposed to believe? He had no one. His sister, his friends, Clarke, Jasper, Monty. They all lied to him.  
And it fucking hurt.  
It was his life, his story. Yet, he didn’t even have a say in it.

He picked up the phone, clenching his jaw. He unlocked it unwillingly.  
Three calls, and seven texts from Clarke. Eleven calls from Octavia. One call and two texts from Miller.  
He sighed. He’d been avoiding all of them for two days. He just needed to process things, on his own.

**Text Message  
**Today : 7:48 AM

_‘I’m sorry_ _. This is not what I wanted. I can explain. I’m sorry.’_

He already knew what he wanted to say to Clarke. He typed the message without thinking, and sent it before he had the time to hesitate.

_‘I just need some time.”_

And that was all.  
He wouldn’t call Octavia, not yet. She just had her baby, so an argument with her brother was the last thing she needed. If he was being completely honest though, he was dreading this conversation more than anything.  
Actually, the idea of having to face anyone made him extremely nervous. His heart dropped because of that simple thought.  
No. He needed to be alone. Just for a few days.  
It was like he was standing at the edge of a cliff, and he couldn’t get back, couldn’t hang onto something. The only way to get through this was to jump, but he didn’t know how hard the fall would be.  
Soon, he would have to jump. It was just a matter of time.  
He knew refusing to talk to Clarke, to Octavia or to Miller wouldn’t make things better. The past couldn’t be changed, even if it could be forgotten. One day, he would know the truth.  
He always thought he was ready for it. Now that everything seemed so much more complicated, he kept doubting himself. But he had to be. He didn’t have a choice.

*****

Someone aggressively knocked on his door a few hours later.  
Bellamy turned his tv off, his senses alert. He had a feeling he didn't want to see the person behind this door, and if he could pretend to not be there, then he would.  
He waited, silently waiting for them to leave. It didn't matter who it was, anyway, because he didn't feel ready to talk to anyone. He had deliberately avoided to order food for that exact reason.  
But the person knocked - or more like, hit - on the door again. It made such a noise, this time, Bellamy startled.

"I know you're in there. Open the door." A voice, Miller's, shouted.

Bellamy sighed.  
God, he hated this.

"Don't be an idiot, Bell. I heard the tv." Miller continued.

_Fuck._  
Bellamy clench his fists.  
_Fuck._  
He couldn't do this. Not yet. It was too hard.

"You can't avoid this conversation forever." his lying best friend told him through the door, and Bellamy hated to admit that he was right.

But it wouldn't go well. He knew it. Miller probably knew it, too.  
Things had to be said, and yet none of those things would resolve the situation. If anything, it would only make it worse.  
But it was now or never. Because maybe Bellamy would never gather the strength to face them all. The sooner he did this, the sooner he would find peace.  
At least, that was how he was trying to convince himself to open the fucking door.  
He mustered the courage to get up from the couch and walk across the living room, reaching the entrance of the apartment. He stopped abruptly, facing the door, feeling fear growing inside his chest.  
He closed his eyes and focus on his breathing. He could do this. He could hear Clai… Clarke's voice in his head, telling him to calm down the night he called her. _Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out._  
He did this for a minute, clearing his head.  
He opened his eyes, then opened the door.  
As expected, of course, Miller was standing on the doorstep, looking both pissed and relieved. At the sight of him, Bellamy's whole body tensed, preparing himself to the confrontation.  
He silently stepped aside to let him in, none of them even blinking at they stared at each other. Miller stepped in, and Bellamy slammed the door behind him.  
For a moment they just stood in front of each other, saying nothing. None of them broke eye contact. It lasted for so long Bellamy felt the need to speak.

"So? What do you want?" he asked, his voice low.

Miller remained still for a second, his face expressionless, then he sighed, his shoulders falling. He looked defeated. He rose a hand before him, as if he was already trying to ease the situation.

"Listen…" he started, calmly. "I don't know what she told you…"

Those simple words, the mention of Clarke, was enough for Bellamy to feel fury invade his chest.

"What _she_ told me?" he repeated, raising his voice.

The discussion had barely begun, and Bellamy was already losing his temper. This was about to be exhausting and draining.  
Miller tensed, his eyes narrowing like a warning not to provoke him.

"She's a liar." he said, his voice firm. "She isn't who you think she is."

Bellamy clenched his jaw. He hated the fact that he couldn’t deny it. He didn’t know her, not really. Maybe she was the biggest liar he’d ever met. But maybe she’d been the most honest out of all of them.

"And how could I trust you ? Huh ?" he blurted, frustrated.

Not only did he feel angry, but also so, so hurt. Miller was his best friend. And he didn’t tell him anything. He thought he could count of him.  
So much lies. For _years_.  
It suddenly exploded inside of him.

"You didn't tell me a fucking thing! About my own life!" he shouted, the anger he'd been feeling for weeks, or maybe for years, finally getting out of him.

Bellamy took a step closer. Miller stepped back. Not because he was impressed, but because he seemed to be fighting against his desire to hit Bellamy in the face. His fists were clenched, his face closed.

"There are things you don't want to know." he said.

Bellamy grit his teeth so hard he thought they would shatter. He took all of his strength to get away from Miller, feeling this dangerous rage slowly taking over his body. Bellamy didn't trust himself in that moment.

"You don't have the right to decide." he growled.

Miller snorted, shaking his head.

"So what?” he exclaimed. “She told you all about the happy memories you two shared together? So great, so perfect, huh?"

Bellamy remembered their meetings, the things she’d told him about. Their animosity the first time they met, the night he was drunk, the workshop, their friendship.  
Yes, they seemed to be good memories. Memories he wished he remembered.  
But Miller’s words hit the right spot. What if she’d been lying from the beginning? How much did she hide from him?

"She was my friend." he said, trying to ignore his own doubts.

Miller’s eyes were suddenly mean, mocking.

"Oh yeah, a good _friend_, that's for fucking sure." he cackled.

Bellamy frowned, not sure to understand what he meant. Or maybe… he didn’t want to understand.

"What do you mean?"

But Miller only shook his head and turned his back on him, refusing to answer. Bellamy, torn between confusion, anger and sadness, was frozen. He found himself unable to do or say anything. Maybe he was just tired of the situation. Maybe it was too much.

"Fuck. If you guys…” Miller muttered.

Bellamy waited for him to continue.

“If she… if I didn’t introduce her to you, you wouldn't have…"

Bellamy’s heart seemed to stop.

"What?"

A pause.  
Miller turned around to look at him.  
Bellamy couldn’t believe what he just heard.

"So, not only did you know her, but you fucking introduced to me?” he shouted, shaking.

Miller clenched his teeth, but remained silent.

“Are you kidding me?" Bellamy yelled, to make him react.

Miller took a deep breath, resigned.

"Yeah. I did.” he said. “And that was a fucking mistake."

A part of Bellamy wanted to ask him why. But the other part of him was too resentful to let it go.

"Oh? And lying to me for the past three years isn't?” he shouted. “What else did you hide from me? Are you gonna tell me Gina never fucking died?"

“YOU KNOW VERY WELL SHE DIED!” Miller exploded. “AND YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING MEMORY!”

Bellamy froze.  
He shouldn’t have mention Gina’s death. Too far, too much. It was a mistake.

"Yeah, Gina died.” Miller repeated.

He got so close to Bellamy, he could feel the heat of his breath on his face.

“And you know what?” he said, slowly. “She died _because_ of Clarke."

The air got stuck in his chest.  
Bellamy stepped back as if he’d just slapped him.  
No. It couldn’t be.  
Not this, not her.  
How? Why?  
No. The girl he knew could never do such a thing.

"You're lying." he murmured.

His voice was shaking. Tears invaded his eyes.

"She was there, the night of the accident." Miller said.

"I don't believe you."

Miller snorted, then walked past Bellamy. He opened the front door, then turned around one last time to look at his friend.

"Ask her, then. Let's see if she has the guts to tell you the truth." he said, and left.

* * *

** _16/02/2016_ **

_Seventeen days.  
More than two weeks. Half a month.  
And Bellamy still refused to talk to her.  
The shame she felt was so overwhelming, it was like she was dying inside. She didn’t have the courage to talk about it to anyone. It was her fault. She’d done something terrible, and because of that she'd lost him.  
Bellamy. Her friend.  
For months they had seen each other every week. Almost every day. He was with her, all the time. Even if he wasn’t in the same room, she knew she could come to him, talk to him whenever she wished.  
It was all over, so suddenly.  
She’d never felt so alone.  
She tried to apologize so many times. Through texts. Through vocal messages – he wouldn’t answer her calls.  
At work, he avoided her, obviously. She thought maybe he just needed some time, so after a week she decided to leave him alone.  
Nothing.  
And she got it. He had every right to be pissed at her.  
But if he could only _listen_ to what she had to say. She didn’t ask much, she didn’t even want him to talk. She just wished he would give her a chance to say sorry.  
She had been patient. Now she was desperate.  
She was pacing in front of his car, on the parking near the school. It felt wrong, forcing him to face her. But she was tired of waiting, and if their friendship was over for good, then at least he could say it once and for all. She needed this to move on.  
She kept going through her phone, putting it back into her pocket, looking up, pacing, sighing, picking up her phone again, and so on. She couldn’t stand still, shaking with anxiety. He should be there any minute.  
Several times, she heard steps coming towards her, and she straightened thinking it was him. Then, seeing it was someone else, her shoulders would fall, torn between being relieved or disappointed. She hated this. Waiting for him felt worse than having to confront him.  
She looked at her phone, again. She went through the same apps, looking at the same tweets, posts and pics for the hundredth time. She closed and opened them again. She closed them again and looked up.  
Her heart dropped. Her body froze.  
He was there, standing a few feet away from her. His stare was focused on her, his jaw was clenched. Clarke hold her breath. She was suddenly at loss of words. She couldn’t think properly, couldn’t remember what she was supposed to say. He was there, and it was all that mattered.  
She watched him as he took a look at the school behind him, as if he was hesitating going back inside to avoid her. She waited, expecting him to leave. But he didn’t move, and sighed.  
Clarke saw this as an opportunity, and took a few steps towards him. She stopped at the sight of the expression on his face.  
He was still pissed at her.  
She looked down, ashamed. She took a deep breath. _

_“Can… Can we talk?” she asked him, quietly. _

_He didn’t answer.  
She looked up, thinking maybe he was pretending not to hear her, but his eyes were on her.  
Apparently, he’d decided to punish her with silence. _

_“_Please_.” she begged. _

_Just one discussion. Nothing more. After that she would leave him alone, if he wished for her to.  
He seemed to hesitate, again. He looked around him for some reason, then walked toward his car. Past her.  
She stood still, not daring to make a move toward him. _This is it_, she thought. He was leaving.  
He opened the door._

_“Get in.” he said, his voice so low she wondered if she’d imagined it. _

_He got into his car and slammed the door. Stupidly, she waited for him to start the engine, still expecting him to leave her there. When he didn’t, she hurried up to get inside.  
She let out a long sigh, closing the door. It felt strange, sitting so close beside him after weeks of silence and avoidance.  
She took a glance at him, wondering what he was thinking. He was looking straight ahead, frowning, his body tensed. He clearly wished she would be somewhere else.  
Clarke looked in front of her, too. _

_“Bellamy…” she started. _

_She saw him wince out of the corner of her eye._

_“I’m sorry.” she said, swallowing hard. “I never wanted… I wasn’t thinking.”_

_She stopped, just in case he had something to say. He didn’t. She sighed. _

_“Listen, I… It’s just… It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone, okay? The way I reacted… I didn’t control it. I’m sorry. And you… uuugh!” she exclaimed. _

_Her cry of frustration seemed to surprise him. A reaction from him, at last. _

_“We’re adults, Bellamy. Sexually active adults. You can blame me all you want for trying to kiss you, and you would be right to do so, but you have to admit that you could’ve seen this coming.” she blurted. _

_Out of all the scenarios she’d imagined about this discussion, she never actually thought she would be saying this.  
Yet, here she was. Her heart was beating so fast.  
Bellamy looked down then, pursing his lips. He was still refusing to speak, but she could see her words had impacted him.  
She closed her eyes, and sighed. _

_“Again. I’m sorry. If you don’t want to see me ever again, fine. Just say it once and for all.” she said, suddenly tired. _

_She started playing with her hands, focusing on her breathing. She was shaking. She decided she wouldn’t get out of this car until he gave her an answer.  
She’d been waiting for two weeks. She could wait for a few extra hours._

_“Do you have feelings for me?”_

_Clarke looked up.  
Her heart dropped.  
Did she hear that right? _

_“What?” _

_He was looking ahead, again.  
He clenched his jaw. _

_“Do you. Have. Feelings. For me?” he said, articulating every word. _

_His voice was calm, too calm. It was like he was hiding something.  
Out of instinct, Clarke wanted to shout ‘no!’. And yet, she found herself unable to speak, the word stuck in her throat.  
She told herself she didn’t love him.  
She shouldn’t love him.  
He was her friend. He was… in a relationship. _

_“N-no.” she said, and she wished she sounded more convincing. _

_She sighed, swallowed, and clenched her fists. _

_“No.” she said firmly. “It was a mistake. That’s all.” _

_And slowly, very slowly, Bellamy turned his head towards her. They locked eyes. For the first time since that day at the workshop, he wasn’t looking at her with animosity.  
He looked… sad. Tired. _

_“I promise.” she whispered. _

_After a few seconds of complete silence, he nodded. _

_“Okay.” he said, and it wasn’t quite a smile on his face, but it was enough. _

_Clarke felt the relief invade her chest and the weight get off her shoulder.  
It was fine. Everything would be fine.  
She would made sure of it. She would be the friend he wanted her to be.  
_‘Nothing more’_, she told herself._


	21. The secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone !  
Gosh, I'm sorrry for the wait. Again. Recently I've been struggling with anxiety, which is why I had to take a break from writing. But I'm feeling better now, and I hope I will be able to publish the next chapter much sooner. Are people still reading this story ? I hope so, because your kudos and comments are what keeps me going. I sometimes re-read them to be motivated, so please, don't hesitate to post one ❤️  
I feel like after so much time a reminder of what happened last chapter could be a good thing, so here you go :  
PRESENT : Bellamy discovered Claire is actually called Clarke, thanks to Miller. Miller and Bellamy argued. Bellamy is still kinda pissed at Clarke for lying to him. But, oh well, he loves her.  
PAST : Clarke tried to kiss Bellamy after a war paint. Bellamy badly reacted to that. A few days later, Clarke confronted him in his car. He asked her if she had feelings for him, and she answered no.  
And voilà ! Hope you're goin to enjoy this chapter. More confrontations, and secrets, and (maybe) revelations...

**09/03/2019**

It was a beautiful day.  
The sun was shining, illuminating the leaves of the huge trees all around her, blinding her. She raised a hand before her eyes, watching two children running past her.  
She could feel a gentle breeze on her skin, provoking chills all over her body.  
Her short hair was tickling her nose.  
The sky was so blue, she wanted to lie down in the grass and stare at the rare clouds passing by.  
It was the kind of days that made her smile, because everything felt so good.  
But Clarke wasn’t smiling, and everything hurt.  
Her heart was heavy. She was closed to tears each time her mind reminded her of _him_. And what he’d discovered.  
She wished she could’ve told him herself. She wished she’d had the occasion to introduce herself properly, to tell him the truth.  
Instead, Miller had found her and ruined everything.  
It was inevitable, she knew that. She couldn’t hide forever. But… Bellamy’s face. The look in his eyes. The pain, the anger, the betrayal.  
It was all her fault.

It’d been five days since she last saw him. He’d asked her to give him time, so that’s what she did. Even if it tortured her not to be able to talk to him. To explain the unexplainable.  
Until this morning, when he sent her text. Finally.  
It was somewhat ironical, and maybe a kind of punishment, that he chose this park to meet her. That same park they came to, when she’d accepted to talk to him again. She was already Claire Graham, then. And he was running after her, forcing her to face him. Now she was the one running after him, hoping he wouldn’t leave her.  
Her heart was beating fast ever since she’d left the house. She was looking all around her, searching for him. What if he didn’t come, because he decided she wasn’t worth it?  
She wouldn’t survive this. She couldn’t do this again. Losing him.

She kept walking for a few seconds, her hands shaking.  
Then, there he was. Seated on a bench. The sight of him, his curls, his face, his hands, made her stop. He was beautiful. And her heart was breaking.  
She felt the tears coming, but she closed her eyes to hold them. She wouldn’t be crying. She didn’t want to. A few weeks ago, she would’ve run the opposite direction. Now she was fighting the urge to hold him in her arms. She was tired of being afraid of the consequences, it was too late anyway. She just wanted to live her life knowing Bellamy Blake didn’t hate her.  
She took a step, then another towards him. It reminded her of the day she’d confronted him about their kiss… or their almost kiss in the workshop. She would give everything she had to go back to this day. She wouldn’t make the same choices.

Bellamy seemed to not notice her, until he took a brief look at her. It was so quick, she wondered if she imagined it. But seeing his body suddenly tensed, and his jaw clenched, then he probably had. She sighed and walked to the bench. She hesitated, then sat not too far but not too close from him. Her body was still deeply aware of his proximity, though.  
They remained silent, for a very long time.

“Hi.” she eventually said.

“Hi.” he said, after a moment. “Clarke.”

Ouch.  
She did deserve that.  
She tried to lock eyes with him, but he wouldn’t look at her. He was still angry. She couldn’t blame him.  
She didn’t say anything, because what could she respond to that? But he didn’t either, and Clarke got tired of the silence. She wanted to get this over with.  
She would do the talking, then.

“I’m sorry.” she said, her voice tight.

She saw him close his eyes briefly.

“I’m truly sorry. And I… I was planning to tell you.”

“When?”

There. Finally.  
He turned to her, and stared at her. Her heart missed a beat, the intensity of his dark eyes on her confusing her thoughts.  
It felt both like a blessing and tragedy.

“When where you going to tell me, Clarke?” he asked, cold.

The fact that he insisted on her name, her real name, again made her wince. She never thought the sound of her name on his lips would hurt so much.  
She sighed.

“I don’t know.” she admitted.

Bellamy snorted, but he seemed sadder than bitter. She knew she’d disappointed him, and he was hurting too.  
Maybe it was too late. Maybe they were too broken.  
Maybe it wouldn’t get better.  
But she had to believe they could get through this, even if he didn’t stay by her side.  
Bellamy put his head back, looking at the sky, and sighed.

“Listen… I just… Fuck, I don’t know what to do.” he said, clenching his fists.

Clarke looked down, waiting for him to continue.

“You know, everyone’s going on about their opinion about _my_ life. _My_ past. Who I should see. What I should know. What I should do. But I don’t want their opinion, I want the truth.”

She felt his gaze on her, probably waiting for a reaction from her. But she didn’t move, biting her lips. Yeah, she knew exactly what he wanted.  
Bellamy sighed, again.

“Miller thinks you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me. Jasper and Monty seem to be on your side. And I thought I could trust you, but you lied to me.”

Damn, that hurt.  
Suddenly, she was too choked up to speak.  
She felt more than she saw him get closer to her, his body almost entirely turned towards her.

“That’s why I need you to _talk_ to me. ‘Cause… I want to believe you, Clai… Clarke. I want to believe you so fucking much. But if everything you told me was a lie, I d-“

“No.”

Bellamy tensed.

“What?”

“No. It was not a lie.”

She took a breath and gathered up the courage to look at him. He needed to see that she was being honest.

“It was all true. The memories. I didn’t made them up Bellamy, I swear. I just… decided _not_ to tell you about certain things.”

Bellamy frowned, thinking. His eyes were moving up and down her face, as if he could detect the lie somewhere. But he didn’t seem to be wary of her, just worried. And sad, always sad.

“Then why didn’t you tell who you were?”

“Because…”

She started playing with her hands, anxious. She knew what she was about to tell him.

“Do you remember the first time you met me?”

She didn’t say _the first time we met_, because that was another time, another day, which Bellamy didn’t remember.  
But he remembered her, stumbling upon him, years later.

“At Jasper’s?” he asked

She quickly looked up at him, long enough to see the shadow of a smile of his lips.

“Yeah. When we bumped into each other.”

Bellamy nodded.  
Clarke took a breath.

“We had been planning this for weeks. I mean, me, Jas’, Monty and Harper. I wouldn’t come to Monty and Harper’s wedding. I wouldn’t see anyone besides them. I would stay for a few days, then leave without anyone knowing I was ever there.”

She shook her head, smiling in spite of herself.

“You ruined everything, you know.” she continued. “You showed up the very first day, Bellamy. The first fucking day.”

Bellamy’s eyes were not leaving her face.

“I remember the shock of seeing you, after so long. I didn’t expect you. But then you were there, right in front of me, and you… didn’t know me.”

Tears were in her eyes. She swallowed with difficulty.

“I saw it in your eyes.” she whispered, her voice choked up. “Just like last time… at the hospital.”

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she wiped it off before he could.  
It took her a few seconds before she was able to speak again.

“What I’m trying to say is, Jasper made that stupid name up when he saw you. Then, he told me. And… I guess it was easier to hide behind that than take the risk to reveal who I was and lose you again.”

“Clarke…”

“I’m a coward, Bellamy. I’m sorry. But that’s the truth. And it was all for nothing, because I’m going to lose you anyway.” she kept going, her voice shaking.

At least she said it. She couldn’t hold it in for much longer.  
Bellamy took her hand in his, surprising her. His touch was reassuring, warm.  
He leaned in, his face only a few inches from her.

“You won’t lose me.” he murmured. “But only if you’re honest with me.”

“I am.”

“Then please, _please_… Tell me what happened between us. I can’t live like this anymore.” he said, and she could hear the pain in his voice.

“Bellamy…”

“I need you. Please.”

His forehead was touching hers. His breath was warm on her skin. His hands pushed back the hair hiding her face, and rested on her cheeks. She took a shaky breath.  
She was at loss of words.

“Were you…” he started.

He seemed to hesitate.

“Were you there? The night of the accident?” he asked.

Clarke eyes widened. Her heart dropped.  
He’d never asked her about the accident, until then.  
_Shit._  
It was over. He knew too much, or not enough. Clarke wouldn’t get out of this without an explanation.

“What did Miller tell you?” she asked, feeling the panic growing in her chest.

Bellamy slowly moved away from her. He was suspecting something.  
His hands got off her face, but only to drop to hers, joined on her thighs.  
He briefly clenched his jaw.

“He told me you were there. And that you were hiding things from me.” he said.

“That’s it?”

Bellamy nodded.  
Clarke sighed.

“He’s right. I was there. And I _have_ been hiding things from you, but you already know that.”

Bellamy winced. Even if she had admitted it, it probably wasn’t pleasing to hear.

“Then what happened?” he asked.

Clarke shook her head.  
She could tell him about many things. But not that night, not yet. Maybe not ever.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

This time, Bellamy got his hands off her, disappointment written all over his face.

“Fuck.” he said.

“Just… Not yet.” she said, trying to reassure him.

He shook his head, one of his hand playing nervously with his hair.

“Promise me you’ll tell me one day.” he said quietly, desperation in his eyes.

He was asking a lot from her. She didn’t feel strong enough to stay faithful to such a promise. But he deserved peace, and if she could give him that then she was ready to make sacrifices.

“Okay.” she sighed. “I promise.”

She didn’t know what she wished for the most : that she eventually find the courage to tell him the truth, or that she never had to.  
Whatever happened, it would cost her so much.  
Bellamy seemed to relax, even if still disappointed. He frowned.

“Is that why you’re hiding from them?” he asked. “From Miller and my sister?”

“Yes. I… I promised them I wouldn’t come back. To you.”

Bellamy stared at her, and she stared back. Through his eyes, she saw how lost he felt. How much those secrets were torturing him.  
But most of all, she saw that he believed her.  
And that was the most important thing.  
A small smile appeared on her lips.

“Instead, it’s you who came back to me.” she murmured.

Bellamy smiled, too, his thumb tenderly stroking the back of her hand. He was beautiful.

“I’m glad I did.” he confessed, shyly.

Clarke’s heart seemed to grow inside of her chest, a pleasant warmth invading her body. His words sounded like those of a lover, who only had eyes for her.  
If only it was as simple as that.  
He leaned in, his eyes on her lips, and for a second the memory of their kiss flashed out in her head. His touch, his taste, his body.  
But she also remembered the betrayal, the anger he felt after it happened. But the Bellamy she had in front of her didn’t recall any of this.  
She put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“I hope you won’t regret it.” she said, knowing he would someday.

*****

Bellamy went back to his apartment much later.  
Clarke and he had stayed on that bench for hours, not speaking a single word, lost in their own thoughts even if Bellamy could only think of her.  
They locked eyes a few times, but she would look the other way. Their hands remained joined all along, though. Feeling her beside him reassured him more than anything that could be said and done.  
He believed her. Maybe that was a stupid choice, but he did. Because he saw the hurt he felt in her eyes. He recognized the honesty in her voice when she told him about the time they met. He remembered her perfectly, the shock of her face, the sun in her eyes, her short blond hair. Everything she’d told him made sense. Jasper did come up with this fake name, It wasn’t Clarke. And the more he thought about it, the more it was becoming clear to him that the real question wasn’t about her lying or not. It was about why she felt like _had _to.  
She was afraid of Miller and Octavia, or what they knew.  
So what did they hold against her?  
As he reached the floor of his apartment, Bellamy looked up, seeing someone move out of the corner of his eye.  
He stopped abruptly.

“O’? What are doing here?” he asked, unable to hide his surprise.

He didn’t expect his sister to show up on his doorstep out of nowhere. Alone.  
She turned towards him and crossed her arms. She seemed exhausted, her belly still swollen from her recent pregnancy, but also determined. For what? He probably was about to find out.

“Hi.” she said, not sounding particularly happy to see him.

Bellamy frowned.  
This could only mean one thing.  
He sighed, then walked past her to the door of his apartment. Octavia remained silent, but he could feel the tension coming from her. He knew her by heart.  
No matter how overwhelmed and tired she felt, if she had something to say to his face she would. He already had a clear idea of what he could be.

“Come in.” he said to her, after unlocking the door.

She nodded, and even if she was trying her best not to show how irritated she was feeling, Bellamy immediately saw it. She stood there for a few seconds, just staring at him, her lips pursed. Then she silently walked in, barely touching him on the way.  
He immediately followed, closing the door behind him.

“Do you want something to drink?” he asked, just in case she wanted to pretend everything was fine before exploding.

“We need to talk.”

No pretending, then.  
Bellamy heavily sighed and leaned against the wall beside him.  
He was going to hate this.

“You talked to Miller.” he stated, because obviously she had, and that was the reason why she’d come by.

“Yes.” she replied, coldly.

Bellamy didn’t have to say anything, he just had to wait. It was just a matter of seconds before his little sister lashed out at him.  
She paced in front of him, then frowned, then finally uncrossed her arms and opened her mouth.

“How long were you going to hide this from me?” she snapped.

Bellamy was speechless.

“How lo- are you serious?”

“Don’t fucking play innocent with me, Bell!” she shouted.

“And you? How long did you hide this from me? You and Miller are the same!” he yelled, taking a step towards her.

He immediately regretted yelling at her. He didn’t want this argument to happen.

“Well, maybe we did this to protect you, but you never thought about that, right?” she replied, furious.

Bellamy clenched his fists, not only frustrated at her, and his friends, and literally everyone, but also at himself for not remembering. Things would so much easier if he did.  
His friends, his sister, wouldn’t have lied to him. Maybe Clarke would’ve stayed by his side.

“But why?” he asked, desperate. “Why did you want to protect me?”

Octavia hesitated, gritting her teeth.

“She’s not good for you.”

“Again, why?”

How could someone so kind, so broken, so beautiful be the source of so much hate and pain? He never felt so alive in the last three years than he did when he was with Clarke. She made him happy, she made him feel like he had a reason to exist.

“BECAUSE SHE RUINS EVERYTHING SHE TOUCHES!” Octavia shouted. “She ruined you, she ruined your relationship with Gina and she ruined Gina’s life ! Gina would still be alive and if only you’d never met this bitch!”

“Don’t call her that !” he thundered immediately.

Octavia froze, her whole attention suddenly focused on his face. Then, slowly, a mean smile appeared on her lips.

“Oh no. No, no.” she cackled. “Don’t tell me you _love_ her?”

She walked to him, standing just a few inches away from him, her green eyes looking straight into his. Bellamy wouldn’t deny it.  
His silence said it all.  
Octavia shook her head, as if disappointed.

“Do you at least know what she did?” she asked, coldly.

Then again, Bellamy’s silence said it all.  
No, he didn’t know anything. And he hated that.

“That’s what I thought.” she hissed.

She turned his back on him, pacing in the room, her hands on her hips. Bellamy’s heart was beating fast in his chest. He’d been dreading this argument with his sister. Nothing could’ve completely prepared him to it. He knew that, once she was gone, he would be heartbroken.

“I defended you a lot, you know?” his sister told him. “I believed it wasn’t your fault. I still do. But whenever she’s near, she changes you.”

Bellamy crossed his arms.

“I don’t understand what you mean.” he said, and it was the truth.

“You were not the same. With Gina… I never thought you would be capable of that. I still wonder how she did it. How she made you…”

“Octavia.”

He tried to reach her, but she backed away. It hurt.

“What is it? What do you mean…?” he asked, again.

“You loved Gina. And yet.”

She took a long breath, closing her eyes.

“You broke her heart. Because of her. Of… _Clarke_.” she said, spitting her name out.

Bellamy froze. His heart seemed to drop in his chest.  
Oh.

“You… Did I… Did I cheat on her? On Gina?”

That would explain so much.  
Both Octavia and Miller cared about Gina a lot.  
Clarke was ashamed of what she had done. She avoided his touch, his eyes… his lips. She barely talked about Gina, even though she was his girlfriend at the time.  
Bellamy was an idiot.  
And yet. He couldn’t believe he would do such a thing.  
He wouldn’t lie to Gina. He loved her, truly. He wouldn’t break her heart… like this.  
Was he capable of that?  
Were _they_ capable of that?  
Octavia wouldn’t say anything for a while, but he wouldn’t get his eyes off her. She said too much, or not enough. He needed more.

“Listen.” she finally said. “The past is the past. Whatever happened, I know you had regrets, Bell. You’re a good person. You didn’t want to do this to Gina. But _she_… argh! Fuck.”

Octavia sighed.

“I told you. She ruins things. That’s what she does.” she concluded.

Bellamy’s world was upside down.  
Could Clarke be that manipulative? But it didn’t make sense. She wouldn’t have avoided him if she didn’t feel any remorse about what she did.  
But if Octavia threatened her… After all, Clarke lied about her name so she couldn’t be found.  
No. It couldn’t be. She wasn’t that person.  
She was kind.  
And he loved her.  
Love is blind, they say.  
Maybe he was blind. Maybe he was just now starting to see it all clear.

* * *

** _19/02/2016_ **

_Clarke didn’t expect him to show up on her doorstep so soon after their argument. Even though everything was going fine between them again, she still had a feeling Bellamy was avoiding her. She’d asked him if he wanted to pass by the workshop the previous day, and he had refused. ‘I just got a lot of work to do’ he texted her, which she knew was bullshit. Bellamy always found the time to write, just as she did to paint.  
That, and the fact than he didn’t warn he was coming, were the reasons why she couldn’t hide her surprise when she opened the door. _

_“Bellamy!” she said, a huge smile on her lips. “Hi!”_

_She was so happy and relieved to see him. He wasn’t completely avoiding her, after all. Maybe things could go back to the way they were. _

_“Hi.” he said, shyly. _

_He was only half smiling, his hands in his pockets, his eyes going from her face to the ground every two-seconds. She frowned. _

_“Is everything okay?” she asked. _

_He shrugged, raising one of his hand to play nervously with his hair. _

_“Yeah, yeah. I just, uh…” _

_He bit his lip, looked at her, then behind her, then at her again. Finally his stare remained on her face, with an expression she couldn’t quite describe.  
He took a step towards her.  
He opened his mouth, hesitating, then sighed and said quietly : _

_“Gina’s coming back tomorrow.”_

_Clarke froze.  
So soon.  
With everything going on between them, she had completely forgotten about that. Gina was gone for so long, it almost felt like she wasn’t a part of Bellamy’s life anymore. But Clarke was.  
Until then.  
She knew it was always going to end. She knew Bellamy wasn’t going to spend entire afternoons and weekends with her anymore. She knew he would rather be with his girlfriend, as he should, and Clarke shouldn’t feel so damn heartbroken because of that.  
Gina had been by his side for years, whereas Clarke… only a few months.  
It didn’t mean anything. _

_“Oh.” she said, because what else she could say. “Of course. Finally.” _

‘Why?’_ she was actually thinking. _‘Why did she had to come back?’  
_She closed her eyes, chasing the negatives thoughts invading her mind. _

_“Yeah.” Bellamy replied. _

_He seemed upset, as if he couldn’t get his mind off something but couldn’t bring himself to act on it. She watched him hesitate a few times, sometimes opening his mouth then closing it, other times leaning towards her then backing away.  
Clarke was feeling lost, uncapable of guessing what was going on in his head. Why even come if only to remind her that his girlfriend, who she met only twice, was back into his life? She didn’t need that. A text would’ve been enough. _

_“Bellamy…” she started. “Just tell me what is it.”_

_If he was about to tell her that he didn’t plan on seeing her again, the best was for him to say it and fast. It would hurt like hell, but it wouldn’t be a shock. Clarke had tried to kiss him. Maybe he thought he could forgive her, but then understood he was wrong.  
Bellamy clenched his jaw, then sighed.  
He took a step towards her, coming in. She stepped back, and he closed the door behind him, his eyes still on her.  
The atmosphere shifted within a second.  
Her heart missed a beat.  
He took another step towards her. And another. She remained still.  
Only a few inches were separating their body. Clarke’s heart was beating fast in her chest. His stare was so intense, she could feel her skin warming up._

_“Bell.” she whispered. _

_It was just like last time. The tension, the proximity, the looks, the desire.  
She wanted to kiss him so bad.  
But she wouldn’t. Not after what happened.  
But the way he looked at her…  
If he kissed her, she wouldn’t be able to stop him. She would give herself to him, desperately, passionately, and then hate herself after that.  
She wanted this so much. And she hated that she wanted this.  
He got even closer, their body touching. She could the warmth of his breath of her cheeks. Her heart was about to explode. Her eyes were focused on his lips.  
_Do it_, her heart wanted to tell him. _Don’t_, her mind wanted to say.  
His chest was moving fast, just like hers.  
And then, just when she thought she couldn’t handle this anymore, he put an arm around her waist, another around her shoulder, and buried his face into her hair.  
Clarke froze, her eyes widening. She remained like this for a few seconds, realizing what was happening.  
He wasn’t kissing her. He was holding her in his arms, as if she was his anchor, his reason to live. At least, that’s how it felt.  
She joined her hands behind his back, closing her eyes, nosing his chest. She felt him breathe in and out, his lips so close to the skin of her shoulder.  
It felt so good.  
She decided that if she had to die then, it would be the most beautiful death she could’ve imagined. Being in his arms, holding her so strongly, already felt like heaven. _

_“Just… stay.” he murmured. “Don’t move.”_

_Clarke felt her entire body warming up, out of love and tenderness for this man, who wasn’t hers. _

_“I’m not going anywhere.” she whispered, and they remained like this, holding on to each other, for what seems to be seconds and hours at the same time._


	22. The honesty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo ! 😁  
I'm back with a looong and important chapter. Lots of things happen, and I hope it will keep you excited for the chapters to come cause oh man, it's getting intense. There are a few scenes in there I don't think anyone expected, so I can't wait to see what you guys think of them.  
Also, yes, I decided to give titles to my chapters after 21 of them were published. Well, better late than never, right ?  
Thank you, thank you, for all your comments and kudos. I feel so lucky. You guys are wonderful ❤️  
Enjoy !!

** _04/03/2016_ **

_“Bye guys, have a nice weekend!” Clarke shouted, to make herself heard as all of her students were leaving the classroom.  
She patiently waited for the very last one of them to get out before she closed the door behind him, sighing.  
What a day. They were all excited for some reason and she had done everything in her power to keep them quiet. She was exhausted, and pretty glad it was over. She loved her job, but sometimes… Damn.  
Her desk was mess. She started gathering up the stuff she would bring home with her to put them in her bag, then picked up a wet sponge to wash traces of paint a little everywhere around her. This happened all the time, and many of these traces completely disappeared despite her efforts to leave the room clean. She could spot a ton of little paint stains all around the place, of every color. Nevertheless, she tried to wash the new ones off every day.  
As she did so, someone knocked on the door.  
Clarke frowned. She wasn’t expecting anyone, and it couldn’t be Bellamy because he was avoiding her like the plague even if he kept denying it. Things were just not the same as they were a few weeks ago.  
_‘Maybe a parent’_, she thought, curious to find out who it could be. She didn’t have any issue with her students. But she could be surprised. _

_“Come in.” she said, putting the sponge down the sink in the corner of the room. _

_She heard the door open behind her, as she turned on the tap to wash her hands. _

_“What can I do for you?” she asked, waiting for her visitor to present themselves. _

_But they remained mysteriously silent.  
Clarke hurried up, closing the tap and picking up a clean towel to wipe her hands.  
Finally, just as she was about to turn around, the person spoke : _

_“Hi, Clarke.”_

_Clarke froze for a second, the voice sounding familiar yet she couldn’t quite put a face on it. She hoped her confusion wasn’t perceivable before she faced them. _

_“Oh.” Clarke said, before she could help herself. _

_She suddenly felt a heavy weight on her chest when she continued, forcing a smile on her lips : _

_“Hi, Gina.” _

_Gina was still standing in the doorway, with an expression on her face Clarke didn’t know how to describe. She seemed… peaceful. Not especially happy to see Clarke, but far from being all haughty and bitter.  
Because, yes, those past few weeks spent with Bellamy had led Clarke to feel an overwhelming jealousy against Gina, a woman she’d met only twice. It was petty of her, she was fully aware of that. Afterall, Bellamy met Gina first. Clarke didn’t even have the right to feel the way she did.  
But Gina had something Clarke wished more than anything : Bellamy’s love.  
And for that only, even if she tried her best to shut that part of herself off, Clarke hated Gina.  
Gina quietly stepped forward, her hands joined before her, then she leaned on one of the many tables in the room, her eyes not leaving Clarke. _

_“It’s been a long time.” she said, and she sounded honestly kind. _

_Clarke hated that, because she didn’t know if she was capable of doing the same. _

_“Are you looking for Bellamy?” she asked. “Because he’s in another building, you just have t-“_

_“No, don’t worry.” Gina cut her off, raising her hand before her as if to appease Clarke. “No, actually I was looking for you.”_

_For a moment, Clarke stood there, not moving, looking like an idiot.  
Shit.  
This couldn’t be good.  
Because why on earth would Gina come to see her? After so much time not even talking to each other?  
If she was worried Bellamy loved another woman, then they would soon be done talking. Bellamy wasn’t interested in her. Moving on. _

_“Why is that?” Clarke asked, preparing herself to what was about to come._

_Gina bit her lip. _

_“I just wanted to talk to you, if that’s okay.” she replied. _

_Clarke crossed her arms, then realized she probably looked distrustful and uncrossed them. _

_“Sure.” Clarke said, leaning on her desk to face the brunette. _

_She tried to sound unbothered, but she wasn’t sure it was working. She had a feeling Gina knew exactly what was going through her head.  
Clarke cleared her throat, fighting against the urge to look down at her feet instead of staring at the woman in front of her._

_“So how was England?” she asked, deciding she could at least make small talk. _

_It could buy her time and make her seem nicer.  
A tiny smile at the corner of Gina’s lips appeared on her face. Clarke wasn’t sure how to interpret it. _

_“Fine, thank you. I had a great time.” _

_Clarke nodded.  
They remained silent for a few seconds, which felt like hours, neither of them having something to say. Gina, apparently, didn’t bother with small talks.  
Eventually, the brunette sighed. _

_“Listen, Clarke… I’ve been wondering about something for a pretty long time, now.” she said, not even the shadow of a smile remaining on her lips. _

_Even if Gina was suddenly very serious, her eyes were almost… kind. She wasn’t pissed at all. Or she was really good at hiding it.  
Clarke frowned, feeling lost. _

_“… Okay?” she said, unsure of how to react. _

_“It’s about Bellamy.” _

_Clarke’s heart dropped.  
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  
So, it _was_ about him.  
Maybe about… them. Or what they could’ve been. _

_“What about him?” Clarke asked, her voice just barely shaking but maybe enough for Gina to hear it. _

‘Breathe’_, she thought.  
For a spilt second, Gina’s eyes narrowed. Then she was back to her normal, almost expressionless face. The brunette shook her head and sighed before talking. _

_“Here’s the thing. Ever since I’m back, Bellamy’s been acting weird.” _

_Gina paused, staring at Clarke – probably to watch her reactions – before proceeding with her explanation. Clarke wasn’t surprised by what she’d just heard. It made sense Bellamy would feel confused about the situation, he already did when his girlfriend was still in Europe. This long-distance relationship had been difficult for him. _

_“I know you guys were close while I was… away.” Gina continued. “Bellamy told me quite a lot about you.” _

_“He did?” Clarke wondered out loud._

_She didn’t know Bellamy was so opened about their friendship. It made sense, Gina was his girlfriend. Of course, he would tell her about it. Yet, Clarke couldn’t help but feel a little hurt because she thought this routine, this cocoon they had created only belonged to them. Their little bubble. But it never was something secret and protected.  
Bellamy told Gina about Clarke, but wouldn’t tell Clarke about Gina. _

_“Yeah.” Gina replied. “You’ve been a good friend to him.” _

_There was no venom in Gina’s voice. She was being honest, again. Clarke kind off wished the brunette was actually pissed at her, so she had a valid reason to hate her.  
But Gina was kind and perfect, and Clarke was just being a bitch._

_“He’s a good friend to me, too.” Clarke shrugged, even if in reality he was so much more than that to her. _

_“Sure. I just feel like… something’s going on with him, you know? He avoids talking about himself too much. He avoids talking about you, too.” _

_And there, at that very moment, Clarke felt Gina’s stare like lasers on her skin. Gina’s eyes wouldn’t leave her face, as if she was trying to get into Clarke’s head and read her thoughts.  
Clarke’s heartbeat accelerated. _

_“Oh really?” she said._

_The more they discussed, the less Clarke sounded convincingly cool. _

_“Yeah.” Gina confirmed. “Did something happen between you two?”_

_It was asked almost innocently, yet something in the brunette’s eyes gave Clarke the impression that the double meaning of her question was deliberate.  
Clarke forced her hands, clinching to her desk, to relax and shrugged. _

_“I’m not sure what you mean.” _

_“I mean you guys seemed to see each other pretty often. And then you just… stopped?” _

_Clarke swallowed with difficulty. It was painful to see how good Gina was at guessing everything. She’d come back only two weeks ago, and she knew so much already. Maybe Bellamy was hoping that, by avoiding Clarke, his girlfriend wouldn’t suspect anything. It had the opposite effect. _

_“He just wanted to spend time with you after your return. It’s normal.” Clarke said, making up an answer. _

_Her voice was betraying her a bit, but at least she didn’t look away the whole time.  
Gina nodded, but Clarke could see she was thinking, hesitating. She obviously had other things to say, but she was keeping them to her... for now._

_“I’m just gonna leave, now. You probably want to go home, I’m sorry for bothering you.” Gina said instead, the kind smile she had earlier back on her lips._

_“Uh… No, don’t worry. It’s fine.” Clarke said, even if she did really want this discussion to be over and go home._

_Gina straightened, picked up the bag beside her and started rummaging in it. _

_“If you don’t mind, I’d like to continue this discussion with you.” she said._

_Clarke bit her lip. Just as she thought she was done with this. _

_“Sure.”_

_“Here.” Gina gave her a small paper with an address on it. “I’ll be singing at this bar, next week on Saturday. You could meet me there? Just so we could talk around a drink.” _

_Clarke took the paper, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the situation she was getting herself into. _

_“Okay.”_

_Gina did something Clarke wasn’t expecting her to do – she put a hand on Clarke’s shoulder, as if to reassure her, and smiled. _

_“My show will be done by ten o’clock. I’d be very happy to see you there.” _

_Clarke definitely didn’t know what to think of Gina Martin. She was being so nice. Clarke wondered if Gina actually suspected something, or if she was only being paranoid._

_“Sure. I’ll be coming.” _

* * *

**13/03/2019**

Clarke cleaned the whole house.  
She vacuumed then mopped the floor, changed the sheets of her bed, dusted every piece of furniture, made sure the bathroom and the kitchen were perfectly clean. She even washed the windows, dreading the moment she would have to pick up all of her stuff and put them in her suitcase.  
Eventually, she did.  
She took her time, carefully folding her clothes one by one. In the end, it looked so tidy she wished she could just stare at it, and leave it the way it was.   
She sat on the bed, and sighed.  
Of course, it wasn’t the real reason she didn’t want to close that suitcase.  
It symbolized so much more than her housework. It symbolized failure.  
Because she failed to make peace with her past. She failed to give Bellamy the truth. She failed to prove herself she could be forgiven.  
She failed, and it was too late.  
She would be gone within a few hours. All she could do was wait.  
She wished she had the strength to leave the house and go find Bellamy to tell him everything. There was still time for that. She could say goodbye.  
But she was a coward.  
And she couldn’t do this again. Seeing him, knowing it was the last time.  
He would hate for it, probably. But whether she stayed or not, the result would be the same. There was so much to forgive, it didn’t feel humanly possible.  
Even if he did forgive her, could he actually move on? Could they live their life as if the past didn’t matter?  
It was a pretty image. Clarke didn’t believe in it.

She remained a very long time seated on the bed, staring at her suitcase. Thinking, thinking, thinking. She was so deeply lost in her thoughts she didn’t hear them at first.

“Clarke?” a voice shouted from downstairs.

Clarke startled, and straightened.  
For a second, she froze, wondering who the hell could that be. Until she remembered.  
Of course.  
The reason why she was packing everything up in the first place.  
She got out of the room and ran down the stairs. Someone was waiting for her, a huge smile on her face, her skin tanned by the sun.

“Harper!”

“Hiii! Oh my god, I feel like I haven’t seen in so long!” her friend replied, immediately taking Clarke in her arms.

Clarke smiled, the embrace soothing her. It felt good to be held by someone who actually liked her. After a few seconds she stepped back, taking her look at her friend.

“You look so good!” Clarke told her, and it was true.

Harper looked like someone who had spent about a month travelling in Asia, discovering marvelous places and enjoying time with her now-husband, which was exactly what she did.  
Harper, Monty and Clarke had texted a few times during the last few weeks and she knew, thanks to the pictures they would send her, that they had the time of their life.

“Oh, thank you!”

Clarke looked around.

“Where’s Monty?”

“Hmm, probably picking up the rest of our luggage.” Harper shrugged.

Clarke was about to get to the front door, so she could say hi to Monty, but Harper stopped her just before she did.

“Hey, are you okay?” Harper asked quietly.

Her friend’s attitude changed within a second, going from joyful to worried. Clarke wondered if she looked so awful people were wondering about her health.

“Yeah.” she automatically replied.

“I mean, did you… talk to him? To Bellamy?”

Clarke suddenly felt like a lump in her throat.  
She avoided talking about what was happening in Arkadia during the few times they exchanged messages. She didn’t want to bother him with her problems when they were having the time of their lives.  
Clarke nodded, looking down.  
Harper gasped.

“Really? And how’d it went?”

Clarke sighed.

“It’s, you know… A lot of things happened. It’s complicated.”

“Does he know…”

“No. No, he doesn’t know everything… yet.”

Harper frowned, but didn’t insist. She could probably guess Clarke was avoiding the conversation. Clarke took a deep breath, jumping on the occasion to talk about what she had in mind for two days, when she remembered Harper and Monty were coming back.

“Octavia, Miller, Murphy… then all know that I’m back.” she announced, feeling like she was dropping a bomb on her friend.

But Harper barely reacted. She nodded, crossed her arms, and waited for Clarke to continue. Clarke couldn’t help but be a little taken aback.

“You don’t seem surprise.” she mumbled.

“Clarke, of course it was gonna happen. It was just a matter of time.” Harper said, rolling her yes.

Clarke winced at her words. Well, maybe she was being a little too optimistic, or desperate. Harper smiled, amused by her friend’s reaction.

“Anyway.” Clarke continued. “With what happened recently, and you coming back… I don’t wanna be a weight for the both of you.”

“Clarke, yo-“

“No, I just… I think it’s better if I leave town.”

This time, Harper reacted. With passion.

“What? No way. You don’t have to do this, you can stay for as much time as you want. It’s not a problem! If you need-” she exclaimed, moving her hands all around.

“It’s the best thing to do...”

“Octavia can go fuck herself, I don’t care what she thinks.”

Clarke laughed, despise how heavy her heart felt in her chest.

“Listen, whatever I do, it’s going to get worse. I don’t want to involve both of you in this.” Clarke said, shaking her head.

Harper heavily sighed, her eyes narrowing. She clearly didn’t like this.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I know.”

“He’s going to look for you.”

“Harp-“

“Hey, Clarke? Are you there?” Monty shouted from outside.

Both her and Harper peered at the front door, which was half open. They exchanged a curious look, then walked to it.  
They couldn’t see Monty yet but they could hear him… talk. To someone else.  
Clarke heard another familiar voice.

“… kinda worried I wouldn’t find the address. I’m lucky I found you.” the person was saying.

Harper opened the door completely and stepped outside. Clarke followed.  
The first person she spotted was Monty, one of his hand holding a large bag, the other pointing at something behind him.

“Hi Clarke!” he said, smiling. “Apparently someone’s looking for you. We just met.”

Clarke peaked at the something, or rather the someone, hidden behind Monty’s shoulder. She immediately recognized who it was.  
The shock was so brutal she wasn’t even able to move for a few seconds.

“Clarke! Fucking finally. I thought I’d never found you. A fucking _mess_.” Raven yelled, seeming both happy and pissed, as she got out of the taxi that brought her there.

Clarke probably looked stupid, with her widened eyes and her mouth hanging open. She blinked a few times, wondering if she was hallucinating.

“What the fuck?” she could only say.

“Well.” Raven replied, her smile getting bigger and bigger on her face. “I thought, what about a little trip to Arkadia?”

Clarke remained speechless. Raven never warned her she was coming.  
And by the look of it, Clarke wasn’t going anywhere.

*****

“Come on, Clarke. Just relax.” Raven said, rolling her eyes.

Clarke was playing with straw of her mojito, her head resting on her other hand, sighing every two seconds.

“Easier said than done.” Clarke replied.

After spending the rest of the afternoon with Harper and Monty, as they showed the two girls hundreds of pictures of the places they went to and told them about their trip, Raven dragged Clarke to a bar nearby.  
‘_You and I have a lot to talk about’_, the brunette told her, _‘and we’ll probably need alcohol for that’_.  
Which is how a depressed Clarke found herself seated at bar, with a barely touched drink and joined by her best friend who she didn’t expect at all.  
Raven sighed, sipping her beer.

“So I take it things didn’t went well with Bellamy.” she concluded.

Clarke shrugged.

“Bellamy isn’t the problem. It’s me and… everything.”

“Ah, yeah. You and your _I’m-actually-a-monster-secret_.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her, not appreciating being called out like this. Raven’s left eyebrow arched, as if daring her to deny it.  
Clarke straightened.

“Why are you here?” she asked her friend.

Raven smiled and raised her glass.

“Alcohol.”

“No, I mean why did you come here? In Arkadia?”

The smile of the brunette’s face suddenly disappeared, and Clarke knew as she put down her glass that she was in for the serious conversation.

“Clarke, you’ve been gone for a month. And every time we talked on the phone… I’m gonna be honest, you didn’t sound like someone who knew what she was doing.”

Clarke looked down.  
Raven was right.  
It still wasn’t nice to hear.

“At some point I really thought you would do it, that you would tell him and make peace with him.” Raven continued. “But then… Something’s changed.”

Clarke closed her eyes for a brief moment. She knew exactly what changed. Murphy saw her, Miller knew she was in town and Bellamy found out what her real name was.  
Her protection bubble burst out, and she found herself completely lost. Discouraged. And at the same time, she wanted to be done with all of this so fucking much.  
She was thinking too much. Sometimes she wished she could shut her brain down.

“I mean, a lot changed within a few weeks.” Clarke said, crossing her arms.

Two months ago, Clarke didn’t think she would see Bellamy again, and Bellamy didn’t even know she existed.

“I had the feeling you were giving up. That’s why I came.” Raven told her.

It was scary to see how well Raven knew her friend. She would guess what Clarke felt, thought, needed. It could be a bit frustrating, too. Clarke didn’t want to be saved. She wanted, she _had_, to save herself.  
But Raven just wanted to help, and Clarke knew that.

“I was.” Clarke admitted, because there was no point in denying it. “But I didn’t know where else to go, with Monty and Harper coming back.”

Afterall, Clarke was packing her bags and saying goodbye to Harper before Raven even showed up.

“Clarke, please. It took me fifteen minutes to find a hotel where we could stay.” Raven snorted.

Clarke winced. Touché.  
Raven waved at the barman to get his attention. He was an handsome man, and Clarke knew from the way Raven was smiling that the brunette was enjoying the view.  
When he finally got to them, Raven leaned towards him.

“Hi, hmm…?”

“Shaw.”

“Hi, Shaw. Can I have another one?” Raven asked, using her sexy voice.

Shaw grinned then winked at her, clearly flattered by the attention. Raven kept his eyes on him as he prepared another drink for her.  
Clarke laughed. It wasn’t the first time Raven openly flirted with the barman when they went out.  
Shaw came back with the beer in his hand, locking eyes with the mechanic.

“That’s on me.” he told Raven, his stare not leaving the brunette’s face.

Clarke was already wondering if she should leave and get back to the hotel when another client caught Shaw’s attention. He shared one last look with Raven before getting back to work.  
Raven leaned back in her chair, seemingly satisfied.

“Anyway. All I’m saying is, it was time I join you in Arkadia.” the mechanic said, as if their discussion had never been interrupted.

“How did you even find Monty and Harper’s address, by the way?” Clarke asked, remembering this little detail.

“I didn’t.” Raven shrugged. “I mean, not really. You mentioned the street in one of your texts. I figured I’d find you by asking around. I was lucky, I saw this couple from afar and decided to tempt it. Turned out they were your friends.”

Clarke was impressed, but not surprised. Raven had the confidence Clarke wished she had. Going to a town she didn’t know, searching for someone who could be anywhere didn’t scare the mechanic. She just went and improvised. Clarke couldn’t do this, not at this point in her life when everything seemed hard and complicated.  
She nodded and finally took a sip of her mojito.  
For a minute or two, they remained in a comfortable silent. Then a pretty voice invaded the room.  
Both Clarke and Raven turned around to face a small stage at the opposite end of the bar. A girl with her guitar was seated on a stool, humming. Clarke didn’t recognize the tune at first, but then the girl started singing – _Bittersweet Symphony_.  
The girl was talented.  
Clarke was hit full force with a memory she sometimes wished she could forget. Not because of what happened that day, but because of what happened after that. She felt ashamed.  
Clarke turned her back on the singer, focusing on her drink instead. Raven noticed and frowned. She was right, Clarke was hiding behind her secrets. Constantly.  
She’s been afraid for so long. Afraid of the truth.  
But the problem wasn’t the truth, it was the lies.  
Yet, Raven supported her no matter what. Without even knowing the full story.  
Clarke made a decision.

“I met Gina in a bar, one day.” she said, even before Raven could ask her. “She used to sing in bars, too.”

Raven leaned in, staring intensely at her friend, as if she was drinking her every word.

“Who’s Gina?”

Clarke took a deep breath.  
There it is.  
It didn’t matter if she said it now or later. Eventually, Raven would find out.  
Clarke was tired of hiding everything from everyone. It could feel great to just… tell someone. Raven also deserved to know who she really was defending, and why.

“She was Bellamy’s girlfriend. She died the night of the accident. The same night Bellamy lost his memory.” she told her, taking her time, making sure Raven was understanding her every word.

She didn’t dare looking at her friend. What if Raven couldn’t bear it? What if she couldn’t forgive such a thing?

“Clarke, I…” the brunette started, but stopped.

Clarke took a quick look at Raven, just enough time to see her… thinking.

“Do you mean…?” Raven asked her.

Clarke felt the tears burning her eyes.  
God, she felt so fucking ashamed. Especially towards Raven, and what she would think of her.

“I’m sorry.” she said, her voice choked up. “You must think I’m a fucking liar. With Finn, I didn’t even know you existed, Raven. I made a mistake. But with Bellamy…”

Clarke bit her lip, refusing to cry.  
She wanted to be strong. The least she could do was to take responsibility for her actions.

“I knew he had a girlfriend. From the beginning, I knew. And I fell in love with him anyway.” 

It felt wrong, yet so incredibly appeasing to say it all aloud. Those words had been waiting to come out for so long. Even if it hurt, and the consequences could be irreversible, a weight got off her shoulder.  
She waited, for whatever was about to come. If Raven hated her, she wouldn’t try to change her mind. She would understand.  
Raven’s silent seemed to last forever, until finally she put her hand on Clarke’s. Clarke startled, surprised, then looked up.

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Raven said.

Relief invaded Clarke’s chest.

“You don’t?”

“You’re human, you make mistakes. Just like everyone else.” Raven reassured her, a tiny smile on her lips.

“But… after what happened with Finn…”

“This isn’t the same. Finn was an asshole. We were both cheated on.”

Clarke put her other hand on Raven’s, holding it tight.

“Thank you. For everything.” she said, feeling so grateful for having such a wonderful woman as her best friend.

Raven probably was the only thing coming out of the years after the accident. Aside from hanging out a few times, they weren’t very close before then. When Clarke came back to live with Abby, they reconnected. Clarke was a fucking mess at the time, yet Raven didn’t give up on her. On the contrary, she ended up being on of the few reasons Clarke was getting out of her bed in the morning.  
Raven was also the one who led Clarke to face Bellamy in Arkadia. Without her, Clarke would still be a shell of herself, drowning in her own pain.

“Don’t thank me.” Raven said, shaking her head.

“No, I insist. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

Raven frowned.

“Wow, you do believe you’re a monster, right?”

“That’s how Miller and Octavia see me.” Clarke shrugged, even though this thought had been haunting her for three years.

“Why?” Raven asked, more serious than ever.

“Because…”

Clarke sighed. There was so much to explain. So many painful memories.

“I don’t know where to start…”

“Hey, hey. Look at me.”

Clarke joined her hands to nervously play with them before locking eyes with her friend’s. Raven was smiling, but her eyes were sharp, determined.

“You’re alright. Don’t worry. Why don’t you start from the beginning?” the brunette calmly said.

Clarke nodded.  
The beginning.  
Her first memory of Bellamy.

“We met at this party, with teachers from our school…” she started.

And the more the words came out, the less she felt the shame and the weight on her shoulders. She told Raven everything. How they met, how they became friends, how she fell in love.  
It took her hours, but eventually she told her about that night, too. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, yet her heart felt lighter.  
When she was done, Raven held her tight in her arms and let her cry until she couldn’t anymore.

*****

Bellamy was close to becoming insane. Maybe he already was.  
Those last few days had been ones of the most mentally exhausting days of his life. He couldn’t talk to anyone without arguing with them or being frustrated at them, so instead he remained hidden in his apartment thinking and thinking and thinking.  
He just didn’t understand.  
It was too much.  
His sister was a liar. His best friend was a liar. The woman he loved was… someone he really know. He wanted to believe her every word. He did. But every time he convinced himself she wasn’t the enemy, someone uninvited showed up on his doorstep and turned his world upside down. They would say too much and not enough at the same time, and it was killing him.  
He didn’t know who he hated the most, in that moment. Himself or the whole fucking world. It depended on the time of the day.

When he felt like he was about to lose it, and did a little exercise. The same one he used to do during the months following the accident.  
He would sit down, focusing on his breathing, and would repeat out loud the things he _knew _happened.  
Years ago, Miller introduced Clarke to him. He and Clarke were friends. Clarke knew Gina and Octavia. He had an accident almost three years ago. Gina was his girlfriend, and she died. His sister, his friends and Clarke were there that night. Miller and Octavia blame Clarke for what happened. Oh, and he may or may not have cheated on Gina with Clarke.

He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t do that.  
And he didn’t make sense. Why would Clarke avoid him so much if she manipulated him in the past? She even pushed him away when he leaned in to kiss her. If all she cared about was to sleep with him she wouldn’t act she way she did. She didn’t even want to talk to him again in the first place, he’s the one who insisted.  
But if she was a liar…

“Argh, fuck!” Bellamy grunted.

He was so done. If only he could sell his soul to a demon or something just to get his memory back.  
He sighed. He _was_ becoming insane.  
He decided enough was enough. He had to do something. Maybe he could clean up the mess in his bedroom, for instance. He’d been extremely lazy these last few weeks. The room’s floor was covered with old clothes and papers and boxes. Just looking at it triggered his anxiety.

“Well, then. Let’s get to work.” he murmured to himself.

He gathered all his clothes first, and put them in the washing machine. He already felt lighter for doing so. But it was the easiest part.  
The boxes and the sheets scattered a bit everywhere were due to his search for pictures and items that could possibly trigger a memory. Well, he found tones of them, but they only made him sad. Most of them were memories from his childhood anyway, which he didn’t have a hard time remembering.  
He sat on the floor in the middle of all the mess. He put the photographs back were they belonged first, making sure he wasn’t mixing them up.

One of the boxes was dedicated to Gina, containing some of her old stuff. A necklace she always wore, a shirt he bought her, a mug she adored… He never lingered on them. It hurt too much. He took that box carefully in his hands and put it on the very top shelf with the others.  
The next piece of paper he picked up was one Clarke’s drawings. He blinked a few times. He’d been so overwhelmed with everything going on, recently, that he almost forgot about them. This one he already saw once, but suddenly he felt like he was rediscovering it all over again.  
His arm was circling her waist, and they were lying on what seemed to be a bed. He couldn’t see their faces, but there was no doubt in his mind that the two people in the picture were he and Clarke.  
Bellamy’s heart dropped.  
It remined him all too well of his sister’s words.   
So maybe the cheating did happen, and it was right in front of him all this time. He was a fucking idiot.  
But there had to be an explanation. He couldn’t believe Clarke would draw such a thing, it didn’t feel like something she would do. And it wasn’t like they were naked. They clearly had their clothes on, which meant nothing important happened. At least, he hoped so.  
Soon, he would have to talk to her again.

He leaned in to gather the rest of the drawings, observing them one by one. The more he was looking at them, the more he understood.  
How could he not see? It was so clear, so evident.  
The workshop.  
Him, pissed.  
Him, writing.  
Him, cooking.  
Him, sleeping.  
Him, him, him.  
Clarke didn’t just draw random memories of her year in Arkadia. She draw _her_ memories of _him_.  
Even before the accident, she already drew him.  
_‘I see you. -C.G.’_. It all started from there.  
Because it was her way of expressing herself. Not with words, but with a piece of paper and a pencil.  
Looking at all of these drawings, Bellamy couldn’t help but feel they meant so much more than he thought he did. Maybe they weren’t tools to help him remember.  
Maybe they were supposed to be a letter, to him. A letter in which Clarke was telling him how much she cared about him.

Bellamy’s emotions were all over the place. He felt both confused and hopeful, knowing his interpretation could completely wrong. But it had to be right. It felt right.  
He suddenly straightened.  
Clarke’s way of expressing herself was through art. The paintings, the drawings.  
Bellamy’s memories wouldn’t come back, and he couldn’t talk to his old self.  
But the Bellamy before the accident didn’t fully disappeared. He’d left a trace. A way for the new Bellamy to understand him.  
An unfinished book.  
Memories and feelings expressed through writing. A letter to himself.

Bellamy sat down and rummaged through the last box on the ground, his heart beating fast. Maybe that was the answer all along. He begged people to give him answers for so long, when he should’ve search within himself first.  
He found was he was searching for : a few notebooks in which he used to write all of his ideas. Bellamy had given up on them pretty quickly when he first discovered them after the accident, judging they wouldn’t be of any use.  
He went through all of them, one by one, reading every pages. Most of them were about Greek gods, who he had re-imagined in a modern way. Hades seemed to be the main character. Dark and tortured, but only trying to do his best. The similarities between Bellamy and him were obvious. Even then, he didn’t think very highly of himself.  
Many pages were dedicated to short scenes that had probably popped up in his mind and which he had written down during his free time.  
Bellamy had been sitting there for about an hour when he finally found something which intrigued him. At first it was nothing, mostly a page full of erasures – so much that it looked almost entirely black – aside from the name written in capital letter at the top and a date. Persephone. February 3rd 2016\. But then Bellamy’s eyes wandered on the next page, and he suddenly realized what he was reading.

_He meets her when he expects her the least_, he read. _Her eyes are daring, determined, the color of a sky he’d never seen. She is always surrounded by colors, and each of her touch leaves the world brighter than it was before. Her golden hair catches the sun, blinding him, and he decides he’d rather lose his sight as he <strike>admires her light, than live a life in which he never set his eyes on her.  
</strike>Her beauty hurts him in a way none of his wounds ever did. <strike>His heart already belongs to her</strike>, her heart is full of a kindness that will never be meant for him. Such a wonder doesn’t deserve to be ruined by him<strike>, and his selfish desires</strike>. <strike>He will love her like the moon loves the sun, and he will watch from afar as her skin covers in painted flowers he wishes he could trace with his lips</strike>.  
She is everything he can never have. _

Bellamy turned a few more pages, hoping he would find something else about her, but he didn’t. His heart was beating so fast in his chest it could be about to explode.  
These words… there were his. His old self wrote that years ago, but it felt like he wrote them only the day before.  
Bellamy laughed.

“Of course.” he said out loud, amazed. “Of course!”

He saw it all clearly, as he read. He pictured her in his mind, and it fit perfectly. The number of erasures indicated the shame, the regret to feel the way he felt.  
Clarke never manipulated him in the past. Bellamy was the only one responsible for his mistakes.  
Bellamy didn’t fell in love with Clarke after a few weeks, as she told him about memories he couldn’t remember. He loved her already the day she stumbled upon him.  
He’d fallen in love with her years ago.

* * *

** _12/03/2016_ **

_“When you try your best but you don't succeed.  
When you get what you want but not what you need.  
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep.  
Stuck in reverse.”_

_Clarke was staring at Gina, singing on the stage, as she was sipping her drink.  
She’d only arrived five minutes ago, and before then she’d paced in front of the entrance for at least half an hour. It took a lot of courage to come, and even more to get in, knowing it was too late to back up.  
The very first thing she heard, as she came in, was Gina’s voice. She quickly spotted her from across the room, surrounded by three musicians. She looked calm, and pretty, her eyes closed as concentrated of the song. Gina was right, the place did feel cozy and comfortable.  
Yet, Clarke felt chills all the way down her spine, an uneasy felling settling in her belly. She knew, with absolute certainty, she wouldn’t sleep well that night.  
But as for this moment, the only thing she could was to wait for the show to be over and prepare herself for what was about to come. _

_“When the tears come streaming down your face.  
'Cause you lose something you can't replace.  
When you love someone but it goes to waste.  
Could it be worse?”_

_Clarke looked down at her drink, snorting.  
How ironic. She wondered if Gina picked the song especially for her. Such a cruel thing to do. Clarke was probably paranoid – she didn’t think Gina was petty enough to do so - or the brunette was particularly good at hiding her true intentions. Either way, Clarke wasn’t having a good time.  
The show seemed to go on for hours before it finally stopped. _

_“Thank you everyone! You guys are fantastic!” she heard Gina said, as people applauded them. _

_Clarke didn’t feel in the mood to join everyone. She barely looked up to spot Gina get off the stage, then went back to her lonely table and her half-emptied drink. If only Gina could just forget they ever had a meeting planed in the first place, both her and Clarke would go on with their life pretending nothing happened. Clarke told her she would be there, and she didn’t want to be seen as a coward. But she wouldn’t mind an oversight of Gina’s part. _

_“Hi.”_

_Clarke startled, and turned around.  
Gina was already there, sitting on the booth beside her. She was smiling, lips closed, her eyes almost welcoming.  
Once again, Clarke felt lost. She wasn’t sure what to expect of this conversation. _

_“Hi.” she replied, feeling a bit impressed by her in spite of herself. “Great show.”_

_“Thanks. I’m glad you could come.” Gina said, and it actually sounded genuine. _

_Clarke nodded, thinking about all the times she changed her mind during the days leading up to that night. She still didn’t know what to do a day ago. _

_“We like to perform here. There are a few regulars, it’s always a pleasure to play for them.” Gina continued, probably to fill up the blanks. _

_“You come here every Saturday nights?” Clarke asked her, because staying silent felt rude._

_“Almost. We perform in other bars, too.” _

_“Oh, cool.”_

_Once again, they found themselves out of ideas for things to say. Clarke kind of wanted to cut the crap and get to the point, but it wouldn’t do any good.  
She cleared her throat. _

_“Fix you, huh? I really like that song.” she said, biting her lip. _

_She did, it just hurt a little bit.  
Gina laughed, but not in mocking, dismissive way. It was a laugh full of fond memories._

_“Yeah, that’s a classic. I found it very… nostalgic.” she explained, smiling. _

_“I think it’s pretty sad.” Clarke shrugged. _

_Gina leaned in, resting her head on her hand. _

_“Really?”_

_“I mean…” Clarke sighed. “You can’t _fix_ someone. You just gotta accept them the way they are. Sometimes it’s not enough.” _

_“Interesting.”_

_Clarke locked eyes with Gina for the first time since she came into the bar, having avoided staring at her all along. The brunette’s attention was focus on her, as if analyzing her, but not in a bad way. She seemed intrigued by her words._

_“Well, I think it’s hopeful.” Gina said, straightening. “’Cause even when everything seems lost, there’s always a way. As long as you keep trying.” _

_Clarke blinked a few times, not knowing what to say. After all, neither of them was right nor wrong. It was just a song, and it could have hundreds of different meanings. _

_“Maybe.” Clarke murmured, too low for Gina to hear. _

_Probably sensing the awkward silence would soon make his come back, Gina ordered a drink. It allowed both of them to breathe for a few minutes, but then the brunette turned a whole body towards Clarke, her face serious.  
Clarke’s heartbeat accelerated, knowing the moment she’d been dreading at come. _

_“You didn’t tell Bellamy, did you?” Gina asked her. _

_Clarke looked down, visualizing his face in her mind. Being there, with his girlfriend, felt like a betrayal. It was one of the reason she hesitated so much before coming. But, he’d been avoiding her and she didn’t have the occasion to tell him. _

_“No.”_

_Gina nodded, satisfied. _

_“How is he?” Clarke couldn’t help but wonder. _

_What Gina’d told her last time made her think quite a lot. She didn’t know what was going on in his head, and apparently neither did his girlfriend. It was both worrying and intriguing, but Clarke doubted it had anything to do with her. He barely talked to her anyway. _

_“Fine. Even if he’s… somewhere else half of the time.” _

_“What do you mean?” Clarke asked, frowning. _

_“He’s just thinking and thinking… It’s not that he doesn’t listen to me. Sometimes he doesn’t even _hear_ me, and then he feels bad about it.” _

_“Oh.”_

_“Something’s bothering him, and I can’t quite point out what it is. But I’ve my theories.” she added, her gaze not leaving Clarke’s face. _

_Clarke’s fists clenched under the table as she tried her best to hide her anguish. Fuck. _

_“Listen, Clarke. I’m not stupid. I’ve known Bellamy for years, I know how he thinks. When there’s something disturbing him, he tries to deal with it on his own and avoids talking about it. And recently, he’s been avoiding talking about you.” _

_Gina remained impassive all along, whereas Clarke felt her confidence slowly leaving her body to be replaced by a growing panic. Her chest felt heavy.  
She swallowed with difficulty, at loss of words. _

_“I… uh… I’m not…” she stuttered._

_“You guys used to spend quite a lot of time together, didn’t you?”_

_Clarke nodded, unable to do anything else.  
Gina sighed. _

_“You know, I truly wondered what happened. I thought maybe you guys had a fight, but then I realized the problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you anymore. It’s that he forbids himself to do so.” _

_Clarke’s heart dropped.  
It couldn’t be true. _

_“He just wants to spend time with you, you just came back-“ Clarke finally replied, feeling the need to defend herself. _

_“It’s not that.” _

_Clarke closed her mouth. There was nothing she could say. Gina knew, and she couldn’t change her mind.  
The brunette hid her face behind her hands for a few seconds, as if exhausted by the discussion. It was the only sign of weakness she’s shown since Clarke had met her. But then she looked up, her eyes sharp. _

_“Do you love him?” she asked, her voice calm yet firm. _

_Clarke’s eyes widened, shocked by how straightforward the question was. For a second, she hesitated. She could deny it, but there was no use. Gina wasn’t waiting for an answer, she was waiting for a confirmation.  
So instead, she looked down, admitting it silently.  
She couldn’t Gina’s reaction, but she knew she understood. _

_“I don’t blame you, you know.” she told Clarke. “I know what it’s like.” _

_Clarke closed her eyes, hurt. She didn’t want to be reminded Bellamy already belonged to someone else, someone so much kinder and accepting than her.  
She didn’t deserve him. _

_“Nothing happened.” she said, because Gina had to know Bellamy never cheated on her. _

_“I know. I trust him.” _

_Clarke frowned. Slowly, she raised her head and looked up to stare at the brunette. _

_“But you don’t trust me.” she concluded. _

_Gina winced.  
Of course. She had no reason to trust her, she was just a random girl in love with her boyfriend. _

_“No.” Gina confirmed. “But I also know he cares about you, more than he wants to admit.”_

_Clarke felt numb, her emotions were all over the place. She didn’t even know what to do or think anymore. _

_“Clarke, I’m going to ask you this... Because I know he won’t do it himself, his heart is too big for that.”_

_Clarke waited, her heart already broken. _

_“What do you want?”_

_“I want you to let him go. Please.” _

_Clarke let out a sharp breath, feeling like she’d just been stabbed in the chest. She felt Gina’s hand on her arm, almost reassuring. Clarke wanted to scream. _

_“Please.” Gina repeated. “’Cause you know he’s not going to leave me, but he won’t let you go either. You have to do this, for you sake and his.” _

_Her tear rolled down Clarke’s cheek. She was completely frozen.  
Gina didn’t move for so long, Clarke wondered is she was dreaming. It was nightmare. A terrible nightmare. She just wanted to wake up.  
Because it was the truth.  
And the truth fucking hurt. _

_“I’m sorry.” Gina murmured at last, getting off her booth, leaving a destroyed Clarke behind her. _


	23. The tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone ! I hope you are doing great and staying safe.  
Last chapter provoked a lot of different and passionate reactions ahah! It was so interesting to see all of your opinions. Quite a lot of you seemed to hate Gina and past Bellamy. Maybe you'll see them diffirently in the future chapters... or maybe not!  
I'm just gonna say it now before I have to say it again, because I know you guys are gonna hate me after this chapter: I'm sorry. But also, this chapter was draining to write. So I really hope you'll like it.  
Enjoy ❤️

**14/03/2019**

He came into the lobby, his body slightly tensed, expecting to be called out before he could even take a few steps. He looked around him – it was a pretty small room, the walls painted in a ugly orange, and a carpet that seemed to be older than him. Aside from a few chairs on his left, the only other furniture was a desk at the opposite end of the room, an old woman seated behind it. She was busy talking to someone else, and didn’t seem to be aware of Bellamy’s presence.

He spotted the door leading to the staircase, only a few steps away from him. He hesitated, taking a look at the receptionist, then slowly moved towards the door. When he reached it, he paused, just in case someone was about to stop him. Nothing happened.

He opened the door and started climbing the stairs, feeling ridiculously nervous. Was he even allowed to do this? Probably not. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, he just needed to talk to her. He was surprised by how easy it was, coming in and out as if he was renting a room.

He texted Clarke a few hours ago, telling her he would pass by in the afternoon. He was completely taken aback when she replied she was staying at a hotel. It occurred to him Monty and Harper were probably back from their honeymoon trip, and that he should probably visit them one of these days, but he couldn’t believe they would ask Clarke to leave.  
So why not stay?

He had an awful feeling about this, in addition to all of his conflicted emotions. The previous night had been long and overwhelming. Gina visited him in his dreams, again. It frustrated him, because the more he tried to understand the less the dream made sense. But he couldn’t think of that for the moment.  
He had so many things to tell Clarke, his head was buzzing. The words were so vivid in his mind he felt his heartbeat accelerating, as if he was already saying them out loud, her beautiful eyes focused on his face.

He reached the second floor. The hallway was decorated with the same bad taste as the lobby’s. His eyes were landing on the numbers of each door he was passing by, searching for one in particular: room 36.  
When he found it, he stopped for a minute, taking deep breaths.  
He wondered how he would feel once the day was over. Everything could change within a second, it only took a word, a look, a touch.  
He would take the risk.  
He knocked on the door.  
He didn’t have to wait long, she opened almost immediately.  
Only it wasn’t Clarke standing in front of him, but a woman with long brown hair hanging loose behind her back, her left hand on her hip and the other on the door, with no facial expression except for one raised eyebrow.  
Bellamy frowned, already feeling dumb for having the door number wrong, but before he could apologize the brunette spoke :

“You must be Bellamy.”

It was not only confusing, that this girl he’d never met would know about him, but it also didn’t sound like being Bellamy was a good thing in her mouth.

“…And you are?” he asked, hesitantly.

“Raven, leave him alone.” a voice said behind her.

Raven turned around as Clarke appeared next to her, smiling apologetically at Bellamy. He sighed, relieved to see her.  
The brunette snorted. Bellamy scowled.

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” he insisted, feeling like he was missing something.

The past few weeks proved him he couldn’t trust himself nor his friends about his memories. Raven grinned, but Bellamy couldn’t tell if she was amused by the situation or if she was mocking him.

“We talked on the phone.” she said. “I’m the reason this one” – she pointed at Clarke with her thumb – “is even in Arkadia.”

Bellamy was a bit stunned. He tried to remember when he could’ve been phoning this woman…

“Oh.” he said, suddenly remembering. “You’re her colleague. The other painter.”

She was the one who picked up Clarke’s phone when he tried to call her for the first time. He remembered her hesitating on Claire Graham’s name.  
It all made sense suddenly.  
Raven froze.

“Yeah…” she said, unconvinced. “So, about that…”

“Raven, please.” Clarke interrupted, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, fine.” the brunette sighed dramatically, before pointing a finger at Bellamy in a threatening way. “But just so you know, if you hurt her _again_ I-“

“Stop it!” Clarke exclaimed, frustrated.

“You just be careful.” Raven finally concluded, and by the look in her eyes Bellamy didn’t doubt she would make him pay for it.

He wasn’t sure to understand the source of this animosity, and he wouldn’t dare to ask. He had a feeling it would only make it worse.  
So instead, he just nodded.  
Raven then turned around to pick up a bag, and he noticed she already had a jacket on. She must’ve been waiting for him to show up before leaving.

“Anyway, I’m just gonna go.” she declared, wincing. “I guess I’m gonna have to keep company to the cute barman.”

Clarke laughed.

“Don’t pretend you’re not excited about that.”

Raven walked past Bellamy, a smirk on her face.

“See you.” she said, not without throwing one last threatening look at Bellamy.

He scowled, watching her leave. He waited until she disappeared out of his sight to focus his attention back on Clarke. Back on what really matters.  
The blond was biting her lip, seeming suddenly very shy.  
Despite the situation, Bellamy’s heart felt lighter inside his chest. It was good to see her.

“Hi.” he said, realizing he didn’t even say it yet.

“Hi.” she replied, her blue eyes locking with his. “Come in.”

She stepped aside and he walked in, discovering a simple room with two beds and a desk. She closed the door behind him.  
His eyes landed on a open suitcase, the clothes inside of it were still perfectly folded. He frowned.

“When did your friend arrive ?” he asked her.

She didn’t mention anyone the last time they’d seen each other.  
He heard her sigh behind him.

“Yesterday. I wasn’t expecting her.”

He nodded.

“Is that why you’re staying at a hotel?” he asked, his back still on her.

It took her a few seconds to reply.

“Hm, yeah.” she finally replied, but he could hear the hesitation in her voice.

She didn’t sound convinced by her own words. Bellamy didn’t know what to think. With Raven arriving in town, it only made sense Clarke would rent a room in a hotel with her. She wouldn’t want to impose her friend’s presence on Harper and Monty.  
And yet, he couldn’t shake this _feeling_. He just had to make sure.  
He turned towards her.

“And if Raven didn’t come? Where would you be?” he insisted.

She looked down.  
Bellamy winced.  
Her silence was far from reassuring him, instead it was only confirming what he already suspected.

“I couldn’t stay at Monty and Harper’s anymore.” she said.

“Why? Did they ask you to leave?”

She sighed.

“No.”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, because he knew exactly what it meant. She’d done it before.  
He wished he was wrong about this. He guessed it the moment she told him she was in a hotel. And it hurt.  
He took a few steps closer.

“You planned on leaving, didn’t you?” he murmured.

She slowly shook her head, before looking up. He saw it in her eyes before she could say it out loud.

“I… I’m sorry.”

Ouch.

“But _why_?”

“I didn’t see the point in staying in Arkadia, not after what happened.” she admitted.

Bellamy remained speechless for a few seconds, his mouth hanging opened.

“What about me?” he asked, desperation in his voice. “Couldn’t you stay for me? You promised me you’d tell me ev-“

“I _don’t_ want to leave you!” she replied, as if leaving was some impossible, painful idea. “But… Miller and your sister know I’m here. And they hate me. This is only making things worse and…”

She sighed, clenching her fists. Even if he was hurt, he could see how hard all of this was for her. She seemed to be struggling with her own thoughts.

“Whether or not I tell you the truth, you’ll know everything soon. It’s just a matter of time.” she concluded, quietly.

Bellamy swallowed with difficulty, watching as her eyes filled with sadness.  
They’d only been reunited for a few minutes, and it already felt like their hearts couldn’t be more broken.  
They were broken.  
But Bellamy had to believe they could be fixed.  
He stepped forward, their bodies getting closer as time was going by, his right hand coming to rest on her cheek. She closed her eyes at the very moment she felt his touch.

“Don’t leave. Please.” he murmured.

She remained silent.  
Bellamy got even closer.

“_Please._” he begged.

Her brows furrowed, her lips were pursed, but after a moment that seemed to last forever she nodded.

“Okay.” she whispered.

Bellamy sighed, relieved even though he knew how much it cost her. Maybe he was being selfish, but he couldn’t think straight when it came to Clarke Griffin.  
Which was why he needed to know her, and them. He needed to understand the way she saw him as a whole, with all the memories and secrets he couldn’t remember.  
He clenched his jaw, knowing she wouldn’t like what he was about to tell her.

“My sister came to see me a few days ago.”

He felt Clarke’s whole body tensed. Her eyes slowly opened, focusing on an invisible point on his chest.

“She said something… I don’t know if…” he tried to explain.

Clarke’s stare went up to his face. Their eyes locked.

“What?” she asked, her jaw clenched.

“She said you changed me.”

The fear he first saw in her eyes was quickly replaced by anger.

“Do you believe that?”

“No.” he replied firmly.

He didn’t. Maybe he didn’t want to.  
Her face immediately relaxed.

“But I wonder…” he continued. “What happened between us…?”

And maybe he did that on purpose, to make her understand or to see her reaction, but he couldn’t help it when his stare went down her face and landed on her lips.  
His heartbeat accelerated, feeling the urge to kiss her. He wanted to, so much.  
_‘Not yet’_, he thought. So many things had to be said, first.  
It didn’t matter anyway, because Clarke stepped back and he couldn’t feel her touch on his hand anymore.

“What do you mean?” she asked, unsure.

It didn’t sound like a question, really. It felt more like she was waiting for a confirmation.  
He took a deep breath.

“We were more than just friends, right?”

The whole world seems to pause.  
Then her eyes widened as she nervously rose her hands to her hair, playing with them absently. She slowly sat on one of the two beds, sighing, staring in the void.  
Bellamy waited. And waited. His eyes weren’t leaving her face. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. His palms were sweaty.  
She didn’t say a word.

“Say something.” he implored.

“I don’t know what to say.”

He walked to her and kneeled down, his eyes searching for hers.

“Clarke.” he murmured, taking her hands in his. “I’m just trying to understand, because…”

He didn’t know where to begin, feelings and thoughts all mixing up in his head and making it hard to find the right words. He was starting to understand Clarke and her struggle, when she seemed to be tortured by her own memories and what to tell him.  
He still had to find a way say it.

“I was dating Gina when you met me, right?” he finally asked her.

At last, Clarke’s stare met his. He saw only worry in her eyes as she nodded. There was no pretend, anymore. They both knew where it was going.

“Then did I…” he cleared his throat. “Did we ever…”

_‘Did I cheat on her with you’_, he wanted to ask but couldn’t bring himself to.  
He hoped not.  
God, he hoped not.  
But the truth was, it wouldn’t really surprise him. Even if he hated to admit it.  
Clarke straightened, scowling.

“No! You wouldn’t do that. You _loved _her.” she replied, her hands gripping his, as if to convince him.

He nodded, sighing.  
So he wasn’t a fucking asshole to Gina. She didn’t die hating him for what he did. Maybe he was a great boyfriend, even.  
Did it make him a good person? He wasn’t so sure. Because knowing he didn’t act on his feelings didn’t erase their existence.

“Well, that’s the problem isn’t it?” he said quietly, looking up at Clarke.

She frowned, confused.

“I told you –“ she started.

“I know what you said.”

“Then what…?” 

He took a long breath.  
_‘Please don’t run away from this’_, he thought.

“I loved you both at the same time.”

He imagined tons of different scenarios where he would tell her these exact words, and in each of them her reaction wasn’t the same. In some, she ended up with her lips on his. In others, she ended up in tears. Sometimes it was both.  
But he didn’t imagine _this_.  
She seemed to be frozen in shock, her eyes searching in his, as if she was searching for an answer.

“What?” she asked him, completely lost.

Bellamy frowned. Did she hear him right?

“I loved both of you.” he repeated, his voice firm, making sure she could hear him perfectly. “I know it, Clarke. I feel it.”

Still in shock, he watched as her eyes slowly watered and her cheeks reddened. A small, sad smile appeared on his lips.

“Do you know why?” he continued, moving a strand of hair off her face.

Her tears threatened to fall, but she shook her hand. He wondered if, in that very moment, her heart was beating as fast as his.  
Carefully, he took one of her hand in his, his thumb stroking her fingers. His stare focused on her face, he placed it on his heart.

“Because my mind doesn’t remember you, but my heart, my body does.” he told her, the words he’d been waiting to say out loud finally coming out. “I felt it in my chest, the first day I saw you. All this time I thought I was just… intrigued by you. But now I know it’s much more than that. It was like… I was always meant to find my way back to you. As if… I’d find the missing piece to the puzzle.”

He felt her hand shaking in his palm, and a tear fell. He wiped it off her cheek.

“I feel whole when I’m with you.” he whispered.

He leaned in, still caressing her cheek. Their foreheads were touching.

“I loved you then, and I love you now.” he continued, and this time she started sobbing in front of him.

The sight of her crying broke his heart, and at the same time he was in a state of euphoria he couldn’t control.  
It just felt so good. 

“And I think you used to love me, too. Maybe you still do.” he concluded.

He was hoping she would do something, anything, to confirm it. But she seemed to be overwhelmed by her own emotions, so instead he sat beside her on the bed and took her in her arms.  
She sobbed for a long time. So long that Bellamy felt a lump in his throat, and if he wasn’t trying to be strong for her maybe he would’ve shed a few tears, too. She needed his comfort. Her face buried in his chest, her arms circled his waist.  
At some point, the sound of her cries was replaced by the sound of their breathing only. He thought maybe she’d fallen asleep, just like last time, but she straightened to look up at him. Her eyes, her cheeks, her nose, her lips were red. But she was still beautiful.  
Neither she or he said anything. They just stared at each other, for what seems to be a second and forever at the same time.  
Almost instinctively, their bodies got even closer, only a few inches separating their faces. Bellamy’s lips parted as he leaned in...to kiss her. Just as he was about to do so, Clarke said :

“I kissed you.” she murmured, her voice hoarse.

He stopped.

“What?”

He wasn’t even fully able to understand her, all of his senses were focused on her, and her eyes, her lips, her body.

“I kissed you. And I knew about Gina.” she said.

Bellamy’s heart seemed to stop beating. He suddenly felt a weight on his chest. He slowly moved away from her, just enough to see her face clearly, refusing to get his hands off her.  
There had to be an explanation. Why would she…?  
He watched as she put a hand on his chest. It was the exact same gesture she did when she pushed away, in the park.  
He could already feel the pain invade his body.

“You’re a good man, Bellamy, and that’s why I don’t deserve you.” she continued.

“Don’t say that.”

“I’m not the one you should love.”

“Clarke.”

She got up suddenly, shaking her head. The sudden absence of her touch hit him full force, as if she’d teared off a part of his body. A missing limb.  
It couldn’t be happening.  
She couldn’t break his heart like this.  
She turned around to face him, her eyes sad but determined.

“Gina died because of me. Because of the choices I made.” she declared, and Bellamy wanted to scream at her, to tell her to shut up.

He wanted her to erase those words and coma back into his arms, so they could forget the world and pretend nothing mattered but her loving him and him loving her.  
But she wouldn’t do that. 

“It’s true.” she said, choked up. “I’m so sorry. You can’t love me. Not after what I’ve done.”

For a moment he didn’t know what to say, because it hurt so much he felt like he couldn’t even move. He was about to break.  
He wanted to beg her. _‘Please, please, don’t do this’_.  
He refused to believe her. It couldn’t be true.  
It could only be a lie, because if it was the truth then it meant he couldn’t be with Clarke.  
And a world without Clarke was lonely, dull, and depressing. She was the only person making him feel alive in so long.  
She walked to the door, opening it. Her jaw clenched.

“You should go.” she said weakly.

He felt numb. His mind was attempting to make him understand the weight of her words, but his heart kept him in denial. His thoughts were a mess.  
He wished he could say the one thing that would make it all okay, but despite his efforts he never found it.  
He barely remembered getting up from the bed, but there he was, standing only a few feet away from Clarke. She was avoiding his gaze.  
After a moment, his feet carried his exhausted body away, leaving his heart behind.

* * *

** _02/04/2016_ **

_Clarke’s head felt like it was about to explode.  
Her headache was so intense she could barely bear the light coming through her window. She’d shut the curtains, but it wasn’t enough.  
She was sleeping with a pair of a socks and a sweater on, wrapped up in a duvet, and yet she still had chills running down her spine.  
It cost her a lot to admit it, but she was sick as hell.  
Going out with her hair wet in the morning probably wasn’t a great idea, and she knew the risk, but she did it anyway.  
Maybe God was punishing her for loving an already taken man. Karma was a bitch. Well, fuck that, ‘cause God didn’t have to make Bellamy Blake so fucking good looking. _

_She’d been sleeping nonstop for literally two days, her thoughts didn’t make sense anymore. She didn’t even know what day or time it was. She just knew everything hurt, especially her head.  
She was just emerging from additional hours of sleep when she heard a sound coming from her living room. She didn’t immediately understand what was happening, as she was still in a daze, until she heard footsteps. _

_She opened her eyes, regretting it immediately because the dimmed light was still too bright to her liking. She focused on the sound, wondering if she was imagining it.  
The footsteps got closer.  
Nope, someone was right there, in her apartment, uninvited.  
She hoped it wasn’t a robber, or a serial killer, ‘cause she knew with absolute certainty she wouldn’t be able to defend herself. _

_She watched as the doorknob of her bedroom moved, her eyes widening. Someone was coming in. She held her breath.  
The door opened, but her room was too dark for her to distinguish anything more than a silhouette standing in front of her.  
She didn’t have the time to panic._

_“Hey.” a familiar voice whispered. “You awake?”_

_It took her a few seconds to recognize the voice, her brain taking a long time to process the information, but once she did she felt both frustrated and excited at the same time. Well, as excited as a woman with the flu could be. _

_“Bellamy.” she said, a voice so hoarse it even scared her. “Whatcha doin’ here…?” _

_She wondered how he’d came in – hoping she didn’t leave her front door opened – and remembered about the spare key she gave Bellamy a few weeks ago. Back when he didn’t hesitate to show up at the workshop. He never used it, though, until then.  
Aside from a few small talks in the hallways of the school, they hadn’t seen each other in weeks. Bellamy’d stopped passing by in a long time, and Clarke gave up on asking him to. Ever since her discussion with Gina, she’d been trying to come to terms with the fact that not seeing him anymore was the best thing to do.  
Even if it tortured her.  
And it wasn’t like Bellamy had insisted to spend time with her after Gina’s return. He’d been avoiding her more than ever, so in the end she was only making it easier for him.  
Which is why she was so surprised to see him standing there, in her bedroom. She wished he’d chosen another time to come see her. She wasn’t at her best.  
He sat down on her bed, just beside her, as she tried to discern his face. _

_“Jasper told me you were sick. I thought I should pass by to see how you were doing.” he said, careful to speak quietly. _

_Clarke fought against the desire to close her eyes again, determined to see him clearly. _

_“Not great.” she snorted. _

_She couldn’t decide whether she was happy or mad that he’d finally decided to show up. On one hand, she couldn’t deny her heart warmed the second she heard his voice, but on the other hand she felt betrayed. He was a coward. He never had the guts to say goodbye for good, and instead left her with hope and melancholy.  
Clarke had to do the job herself, after his girlfriend asked her to. _

_“I brought you a soup.” he told her. _

_She spotted the plate he was holding in his hands, even though she could only guess its shape and size. _

_“When was the last time you ate something?”_

_She actually took a few seconds to think about it._

_“Dunno.” she replied. _

_“You hungry?” he asked. _

_“…Yeah.” she said, suddenly aware of the unpleasant feeling in her belly. _

_He chuckled quietly. _

_“Just wait.” he whispered, and got up. _

_She wanted to ask him to stay just a little longer, to not leave her already. But she remained silent as she watched him leave the room, hoping he would be coming back.  
She waited, her eyes closing again. She wondered how much time passed. Maybe it’d already been hours. _‘Liar’_, she thought. He was probably gone.  
But then she heard his footsteps come closer again, and she opened her eyes again. It was him, he didn’t leave.  
He put down the plate and a glass of water beside her, on the nightstand. _

_“I brought you an aspirin, too.” he said. _

_“Hmm.”_

_He straightened again and walked around her bed. She wondered what he was doing when the curtains slightly opened.  
She groaned, hiding under the duvet to avoid the light. _

_“Sorry.” she heard him say, his voice muffled. “But you have to see what you’re eating.” _

_She sighed. She didn’t want to eat anymore.  
She felt him seating next to her again. Their bodies would be touching if only for the thick fabric separating them.  
His fingers appeared at the top of the duvet, and he slowly pulled it down until her face was fully emerged. She winced, trying to adjust to the light.  
It took her a while until she was able to open her eyes completely. Her head still hurt, but it was all worth it because she could finally see Bellamy clearly.  
He was beautiful, as always, with his pretty curls, cute freckles, and warm eyes. He was smiling at her, but there was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite define. _

_“Can you sit?” he asked her. _

_She nodded. It took her all her energy to push on her arms and lean on headboard, even with Bellamy helping her. He put another pillow behind her head so she could feel more comfortable. _

_“Thanks.” _

_He took the bowl of soup with a spoon and put it on her lap. He seemed to hesitate on what to do, the spoon still in his hand.  
Clarke scowled. _

_“Don’t you dare.” she told him. _

_Even sick as hell she wouldn’t let anyone feed her. She could to it herself.  
He snorted and gave her the spoon. For a second, their fingers touched and Clarke froze. But Bellamy quickly took them away, looking down.  
No touch, then.   
She started eating the soup. It was warm and it tasted so good, she couldn’t help but moan. She already felt better, and soon she was rushing to finish it, only stopping to ask for some water. _

_“Slow down.” Bellamy told her, but she could see him fighting a grin. _

_She ate it all up, licking the spoon until there was nothing remaining. Her belly didn’t feel full, but much better. She wouldn’t mind a second meal, but it wasn’t a good idea. _

_“Thank you.” she said, finally looking up at Bellamy. _

_She’d been so focus on eating she was barely aware of him watching her the whole time. He seemed content, as if proud that she liked his soup. Their eyes locked, and suddenly Clarke couldn’t take her eyes off him. She felt too tired to do_ _ so, and would be pretty happy to just stay in bed and look at him until she fell asleep.  
Actually, she would love it even more if he was still there when she woke up. She sighed. _

_“Can you…” she cleared her throat. “Can you give me the aspirin, please?” _

_He blinked a few times._

_“Uh, yeah, sure. Here.” _

_He handed it to her, careful to touch her as little as possible. She noticed it, and felt the frustration growing inside of her chest.  
God knew all of the things she would throw at him if she had the energy and the envy to do so. She was mad, and hurt, and she hated him for being him.  
She swallowed the pill and settled the glass down. She yawned, already feeling exhausted after so little efforts.  
Bellamy took the bowl off her lap. _

_“You should go back to sleep.” he said, putting it aside. _

_She didn’t want to sleep. She wanted to be with him. _

_“I’m not tired.” _

_“Liar.” _

_She squinted at him and crossed her arms. It only made him laugh. _

_“If I sleep then you’ll leave.” she told him, deciding to be honest. _

_He looked down, his jaw clenching. He wouldn’t deny it, even though she could see it made him sad. He sighed. _

_“I can stay a little.” _

_It wasn’t enough.  
It would never be enough.  
But it might be the only thing she could ask of him before he left, and avoided her again.  
She nodded. _

_“Until I fall asleep?”_

_“Yes.”_

_She sank into her bed, pulling the duvet up, right under her chin. Then she stared at him, making sure he was staring back, before murmuring:_

_“Can you lay down beside me?”_

_She saw him tensed, apparently taken aback by her demand. He immediately started to shake his head, but before he could refuse she cut him off. _

_“Please.” she begged, hoping he could see in her eyes that she needed him. _

_Just one last time.  
It wouldn’t mean anything.  
She only wanted to forget, for a few minutes, that he would soon be gone. That he would go back to Gina, and leave her behind.  
She wanted to forget how angry at him, and at herself, she was.  
Until she fell asleep.  
Bellamy hesitated. _

_“Please.” she repeated. _

_His silence seemed to last forever, before he finally sighed and nodded. Clarke relaxed. He silently got up to make his way around the bed, taking his time to lay down beside her. Clarke was on her side, facing the wall, but she could feel him trying to be as far of her as possible.  
She winced.  
She refused to close her eyes, thinking. They remained silent, but both were extremely aware of the other’s proximity. It was awkward, and irritating. _

_When she couldn’t take it, she slightly moved away from the side of the bed, just enough to get closer to Bellamy. Her back still on him, she took his hand, ignoring him when he startled, and put it around her waist. She didn’t look at him once during the whole thing, but she could feel his surprise and his confusion in the way his body tensed.  
She didn’t let go of his hand, savoring the feeling of his skin against hers. He didn’t move, at first. Then his body relaxed, as if giving in, and she could feel his chest against her back as his arm held her tighter against him. _

_Clarke sighed.  
It felt so good, to be in his arms. She wanted him to never let go. She was determined to remain awake as long as she could, for the warmth of his breath in her neck only.  
She didn’t turn around to face him, afraid to see something on his face she wouldn’t like. Like regret, or sadness.  
She was happy right there and then, in this unbreakable bubble.  
At some point, her eyes closed and her breath slowed down. She was letting go, falling in a world full of dreams.  
Someone far, far away whispered in her ear. Or maybe she was imagining it. It was a voice full of tenderness and sorrow. She heard the words, but couldn’t truly understand them._

_“I’m sorry.” it whispered. “I wish things were different. Maybe… If I’d met you first…” _

_The voice slowly disappeared in the void as Clarke fell into the arms of Morpheus. _

_When her eyes opened much later, she had a weird feeling something was missing. She didn’t guess what it was until her eyes landed on an empty bowl on her nightstand.  
She turned around, searching for someone who was long gone. Her hand landed on the pillow beside her, right where he laid a few hours ago.  
The pain was already there, looming, when she noticed a little something resting on it. She took it in her hand.  
Her heart broke as she recognized the spare key she’d given him. Tears invaded her eyes.  
He was gone. _


	24. The mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!  
Hope you're doing great and staying safe.  
Here I am, with a brand new chapter! I cannot wait to see what you guys think of this one, 'cause it will provoke some passionate reactions, of that I'm sure.  
As always, thank you so much for your support ❤️ This story wouldn't be what it is without all of you.  
Enjoy!

**16/03/2019**

“Ma’am?”

Clarke startled, suddenly coming back to reality. She’d been staring out the window, her head full of thoughts and images she wished she could forget for a second but wouldn’t leave her alone, feeling the anxiety growing inside her chest.  
She looked at the driver, a little ashamed.

“Yes?” she asked, after clearing her throat.

“It’s over there, just across the street.” he replied, a hint of frustration in his voice.

Clarke automatically looked out the window again, spotting the place where she was supposed to go, and bit her lip. She didn’t even know when the car had stopped, she was too lost in her own thoughts to notice. The driver must’ve been patiently waiting for her to get out, and she was taking too long.

“Oh.” she said. “Sorry.”

She picked up her bag, searching for her credit card to pay him. Clarke did her best to focus on what she was doing instead of going back in her mental bubble.

“Thank you.” she told him, wincing, hoping he could see she truly was sorry the wait.

She got out of the car, relieved to finally be alone. She watched the Uber drive away until she couldn’t see it anymore. She started walking, taking her time, looking around the empty street. She spotted the gates, a few steps away from her, and a bench on her right. She sat down, feeling nervous. She’d been thinking about this ever since she was back in Arkadia. That idea was always there, in the back of her head. But she never thought she would actually do it, until Bellamy showed up at the hotel and told her…  
She felt her heart sink, closing her eyes.  
He’d told her so much. Much, much more than she ever thought, or hoped, he would say.  
She took a deep breath, remembering his words.

_‘I loved you then, and I love you now.’_

The memory took her breath away.  
The heartbreak she felt wasn’t the worst part. Nor the pain in Bellamy’s eyes when she told him to leave. Nor the moment she had to tell him Gina died because of her. Nor knowing that she’d lost him once again, and that soon someone would tell him the truth, taking him away from her forever.  
No.  
The worst part was remembering the incontrollable, overwhelming, thrilling joy she felt as he told her he loved her.  
It was so powerful, she couldn’t hold the tears invading her eyes, and she sobbed in his arms. This man, this wonderful, beautiful man, wiping off her tears oblivious to the real effect his words had on her.  
Because she never thought she would hear him say it.

_‘I love you.’_

How many of her nights had been filled with dreams in which he would whisper these exact words in her ear, in a world where they would be free to be in love without fearing the consequences?  
And yet, she never dared hoping it would actually happen. Especially after the accident, and all those years.  
Then, after the joy, came the shame.  
Because the woman Bellamy should love was dead. Because of her. Because Clarke loved him too much.  
She came into their lives uninvited, and left with one of them dead and the other amnesic. It didn’t seem fair that her heart was still beating and the man she was in love with loved her back, when she was the one who least deserved it.

It was Raven who suggested the idea, once she was back from the bar and found Clarke silently crying, curled up on her bed. She didn’t even ask what happened.

_‘Enough!’_ she told Clarke. _‘This had to end. You can’t expect him to forgive you if you’re incapable of doing it yourself. So, find a way to do it.’_

And there she was.  
Maybe it wouldn’t help at all. Maybe it would hurt more than it would relieve her.  
What did she have to lose anyway?  
She just had to do something first. To have a chance at forgiving herself, she had to be fully honest.  
Her hands were shaking as she was rummaging through her bag, searching for a phone. When she found it, she stared at it for a long time, struggling to find the courage to go through her plan.  
She took a long, deep breath, and unlocked the phone.  
She didn’t allow herself to hesitate.  
Her jaw clenching, she brought the device to her ear.  
_Beep. Beep. Beep._

“Don’t pick up.” she whispered. “Please, don’t pick up.”

She didn’t want to hear the pain, the anger in his voice.  
She just wanted him to know.  
_Beep. Beep. Beep._ _Bee-_

_“The number you have reached is currently…”_

Clarke sighed, relieved.  
He would only have to listen then, if he wanted to. It was better this way.

“Bellamy.” she murmured, it hurt to say his name.

She cleared her throat.

“You probably don’t want to have anything to do with me. I’m not blaming you.”

She paused, feeling a lump in her throat already.

“I’m not calling to rub it in. I just, uh…” she sighed, closing her eyes. “I need to you to… I need to explain why I pushed you away. I’m not expecting you to forgive me, but maybe… maybe you’ll understand.”

She took a shaky breath. She would try her best not to cry, but she was already close to give in.

“I never wanted to hurt you. Fuck, I never wanted any of this. But what you said, yesterday… You turned my world upside down. Everything is so much more complicated than I thought, because-“

There, a tear fell on her cheek. The first of many to come.

“You know, I can’t even look at myself in the mirror.” she choked up. “I wish I could go back. I wish I could stop the car, I wish Gina…”

Saying her name felt like a slap in her face.

“Sometimes I even wish we’d never met.” she whispered.

It took her a few seconds before she could find her voice again. She hesitated a few time, and then, finally:

“But… Bellamy, I love you. I always have. And I always will, even if it kills me.” she sobbed. “But you should know you… you chose _her_. Not me. And if Gina was still alive…”

She bit her lip hard as the memories invaded her mind, forcing her to stop.

“I was selfish.” she continued, wiping the tears off her cheeks. “I made a mistake. I couldn’t let you go, and it cost her life and your memory. If you knew how much I hate myself for this, sometimes I can’t even _breathe_. God! It’s like… there’s no way out. Whatever happens, I won’t be okay. I won’t have a happy ending. But you will. I have to believe that you will, because it can’t end like this. I can’t…” her voice broke.

She tried to breathe more evenly, overwhelmed with conflicted emotions. In a way, she felt relieved. The words she’d been on the verge to say for so long finally came out. But the pain in her chest only seemed to extend even more.

“I’m sorry.” she murmured, at last, before hanging up.

She turned the phone off, or else she wouldn’t be able _not_ to think about Bellamy calling her back. She needed to be alone.  
She stayed on that bench, crying, for a long time. Hours, maybe. At some point, someone asked her if she needed help. It motivated her to calm down, and to find the strength to go through her plan. She came here for a reason, and she wouldn’t leave until it was done. It was a small thing, but it mattered more than anything else at the moment.  
She got up, noticing the sun slowly descending in the sky. She had to hurry.

* * *

** _16/04/2016_ **

_Everything went black.  
She heard puffs and hushes. Giggles.  
She rolled her eyes, waiting.  
And then, on her right, tiny flames appeared. It seemed like they were moving in the air, towards her. _

_“Haaappy birthday to yooouu!” they all started to sing. _

_Clarke smiled. Harper put the cake on the coffee table on front of her, her face illuminated by the candles. _

_“Haaapy birthday to yooouu! Haaappy birthday to yooouu, Clarke! Haaappy birthday tooo yoooouuu!”_

_She told them: no song.  
Of course, they didn’t listen.  
Clarke leaned in. _

_“Make a wish!” Jasper shouted. _

_Clarke frowned. She knew exactly what she wanted to wish for.  
But was it worth trying, when there was no hope for it to happen?  
She closed her eyes anyway, pretending. She tried her hardest not to think about him, but his face appeared behind her lids. She opened her eyes again.  
She blew out all the candles in one go. At the same time, the flash of someone’s phone blinded her.  
They all clapped and cheered.  
Someone turned the lights back on, and suddenly everyone was around her – congratulating her, hugging her, taking more pictures with her. Jasper, Monty and Harper were there, of course, including other friends they sometimes hanged out with like Atom, Luna, Bree or Fox. Even Miller and his boyfriend, Bryan, had come.  
It was everything she needed. She asked her three best friends to bring as many people as they could – the more the merrier. She was planning on getting drunk and forget about the one and only person she actually wanted to be there.  
He didn’t even call.  
Clarke smiled harder as Harper was taking a selfie. She decided she wouldn’t be miserable for him. Not tonight.  
Miller was suddenly next to her, putting a drink in her hand. Clarke looked up, surprised. _

_“Cheers!” he told her, winking. “It’s your night!”_

_Clarke grinned as their glasses clinked. It was her third one, already. She swallowed its content in a few gulps.  
Then, Jasper caught her arm, a wide smile on his face._

_“Now, gifts!” he exclaimed, jumping around. _

_He seemed more excited than her. Clarke sighed – of course they bought her gifts. Jasper reached out for all the bags stacked in a corner of the living room, and carried them all to the couch. He then rummaged through one of them to hand her a small, floppy package.  
Clarke raised her eyebrow. _

_“From Monty and I!” he claimed proudly. _

_Clarke snorted. She didn’t know what to expect, Jasper and Monty loved to offer unexpected, stupid gifts.  
Monty got right beside Clarke as she unpacked what seemed to a piece of clothing. She locked eyes with him for a second, and Monty smiled a half smile.  
She knew Monty could see right through her, in the way he acted with her. One of his hands rested on her back, as if to reassure her. Clarke thought she was doing a pretty good job at pretending she was fine and happy, but Monty was too observant. He was silently watching on her, making sure she was feeling okay.  
As for Jasper and Harper, they were helping Clarke by being themselves – funny and joyful. _

_“Ah!” Clarke smirked. _

_She was right, it was a shirt. She heard Jasper giggling.  
She unfolded it, and burst out laughing. _

_“You’re kidding me!” _

_“You know you love it!” Jasper beamed. _

_Clarke had tears in her eyes, but for once it wasn’t because she felt empty inside. The shirt was simple, entirely white, aside from a big square in the middle. It was a picture of the three of them – Clarke, Jasper and Monty – during one of their nights out. The faces they were making were hilarious, it was one of those pictures Clarke hoped would never end up on social media. _

_“I am _never_ gonna wear that.” she told them, even though she was still laughing. _

_“We’re gonna make you!” Monty replied._

_“No way!”_

_It felt great, being around people she laughed. Drinking, joking, dancing. She didn’t have to worry about anything.  
She unpacked the gifts one by one, thanking everyone again and again. She wasn’t expecting anything really, so it was warming her heart to see most of them had taken the time to bring something for her.  
Someone turn the volume of the music up, and Clarke let herself being carried by the others as she jumped around the room and screamed. Fuck the neighbors, she’d been a good girl ever since she moved in. She had the right to have fun from time to time.  
She kept drinking. It was fine, she wouldn’t go anywhere. She was already at her place.  
Time flew by so fast. She was feeling great, perfect even.  
Even if her heart was beating too fast in her chest, and the world seemed to going around and around under her feet, she didn’t stop.  
Everything was a blur._

_Hours past, but Clarke didn’t slow down.  
She didn’t want to.  
The excitement was still there, invading every part of her body, and she wouldn’t let it go.  
Harper grabbed Clarke’s shirt and they laughed as they danced against each other, even though they were way too drunk for it to be remotely sexy.  
At some point, somewhere, a door slammed. Clarke barely heard it over the loud music. She couldn’t care less if someone was throwing up in her bathroom or if people were having sex in her bed. Nothing mattered.  
Clarke wanted to shout some more, but she was losing her voice and her throat hurt – because of the screams or the alcohol, that she wasn’t sure. She turned around, Harper did the same, and Clarke giggled as they leaned their backs against each other, swinging awkwardly. Clarke closed her eyes, raising a drink she’d forgotten was even in her hand in the air.  
She sang to herself, knowing nobody could hear her anyway._

_“…anna just can’t hide it!”_

_She shook her head with enthusiasm. _

_“Mmmh about’n lose control anna think I like it…. AM SO EXCITED!” she shouted. “Anna just can’t hide it!”_

_She raised both of her hands in the air, a huge smile on her face, her eyes still closed. _

_“Anna know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I kn-want you, I WANT YOU!” she burst out laughing, knowing she messed up the lyrics. _

_She opened her eyes, then.  
And everything fell silent.  
She stopped feeling anything altogether. It felt like she was out of her body, floating around.  
Maybe she was just too drunk. Yet her mind couldn’t be fooled, because it was showing her exactly what she wanted, even though she was doing everything she could to deny it.  
It mustn’t be real. It didn’t seem real. It could be a dream. Maybe she was already sleeping.  
These were the most conceivable hypothesis she could think of that could explain…  
Him. _

_Standing right there, in front of her, only a few steps away. His eyes, so dark in the dim light of the room, were focused on her. Clarke felt warmth invade her belly, despite being somehow aware of the fact that it was wrong, to feel that way. Clarke had a hard time remembering why, and she wasn’t particularly interested in knowing, anyway. The less she remembered, the better.  
But she also felt an uncontrollable anger towards this man, who dared to show up at her birthday after what he did. Because she _did_ remember the pain of losing him, and that she wasn’t ready to accept.  
She wanted to say so many things, she wanted to hit his beautiful face, but all she managed to do was scowl at him.  
He took a step forward. _

_“Hi.” Bellamy said, loud enough so she could hear him. _

_He was forcing himself not to look down. Maybe he felt ashamed. ‘Good’, she thought, fighting the urge to take him in her arms instead.  
He took another step closer. Clarke’s heart skipped a beat, so she crossed her arms in defense._

_“Happy birthday.” he told her, half smiling. _

_She kept staring at him, narrowing her eyes, refusing to relax.  
He was probably a dream. A nightmare, even. A very sweet nightmare.  
His curls were all over the place. It reminded her of the first day she’d met him, and it distracted her enough that she couldn’t think of anything else.  
Which is why it took her a long while to notice he was handing her something, patiently waiting for her to pick it up.  
Her eyes went from his face to what seemed to be a box in wrapping paper a few times, before she finally took it off his hands abruptly. _

_“It’s nice of you to show up.” she told him as she examined the package, hoping he would hear the sarcasm in her voice. _

_She watched him, to see his reaction, but he only pursed his lips.  
Disappointed, she decided to focus on ripping apart the wrapping paper. But her fingers kept slipping on it, and she couldn’t remember how she was supposed to do this thing. She groaned, frustrated it. _

_“Stupid paper…”_

_“Here, let me help.” Bellamy offered, his hands already on the package. _

_Their fingers touched for a second, and Clarke startled.  
Bellamy remained calm as he took the box out of her hands, and teared the paper. Once again, Clarke’s eyes focused on his fingers rather than the object he was holding.  
He handed the gift to her, staring intently at her. Clarke realized it wasn’t a box, but a book. It looked old and worn out, the spine was damaged. She frowned. _

_“I…” Bellamy started, clearing his throat. “I tried to think of a gift but… I wasn’t satisfied with anything. I didn’t seem right to give you something meaningless.”_

_Clarke looked at the title – the Iliad. _

_“I used to read this to my sister all the time, when we were younger. I’ve kept this edition with me my whole life.”_

_Clarke remained silent, staring at the book. _

_“I, uh…” Bellamy stammered, his voice getting closer to her. “I know it doesn’t look great… It’s just… I guess I hope it’ll mean as much to you as it means to me.” _

_His voice seemed to break, so she looked up and almost backed up. She didn’t expect his face to be so close to her, he must’ve leaned in without her noticing.  
He seemed to understand the proximity was troubling her, and he took a step back. He smiled, but she could see his eyes were sad, preoccupied.  
Clarke felt overwhelmed with contradictory emotions. She wanted to thank him, to hug him, to beg him to stay with her forever.  
But she also wanted to scream at him, to push him away, and to tell him to leave without ever coming back.  
Her drunkenness wasn’t helping.  
He opened his mouth to say something, but at this exact moment Jasper ran to them, shouting. _

_“BELLAMYYYYY!” _

_Jasper burst out laughing, putting one arm around his friend’s shoulder. Bellamy smiled at him, but his eyes weren’t leaving Clarke. She had a feeling he could see through her, and she didn’t like that. _

_“How ya doin’, bud?” Jasper exclaimed. “Didn’t know you were invited!”_

_Clarke looked down, clenching her hands around the book. _

_“It’s because he wasn’t.” she murmured, but nobody could hear her._

_Bellamy laughed without enthusiasm, then protested when Jasper slammed something to his chest. _

_“Here! Have a beer!” Jasper told him, beaming. _

_“Thanks, Jas.”_

_“Miller’s over there! I’m gonna call him. HEY, MIL-“_

_“Stop it! It’s fine.” Bellamy sighed, catching his arm. “I think I’m going to go ho-“_

_ “NO!” _

_Both Jasper and Bellamy turned towards Clarke, their eyes widening. After a second, she realized the shout came from her.  
Ugh, she hated being drunk. She couldn’t even control her body.  
She took a few steps closer, her body only a few inches from Bellamy. She stared at him, determined. He stared back, confused, worried and handsome, and Clarke felt even more frustrated. _

_“Don’t leave.” _

_She sounded like she was begging, when she was trying to sound bossy. She clenched her fists. _

_“If you wanted to stay home with her, you shouldn’t have come at all.” she told him through her teeth._

_For a second, shock and pain took over his face.  
She didn’t know if she felt sorry or not. She was angry, heartbroken and desperate.  
He shook his head, torn.  
Clarke took one of his hand in hers. She held onto it, as if it was the only thing keeping her from collapsing. Instinctively, maybe, his fingers tightened around her palm. _

_“Clarke…” he whispered, but she read her name on his lips. _

_“Please. Not yet.” she told him, choked up. _

_He could stay just a little bit more.  
It wouldn’t change anything anyway.  
She just had to hope she was drunk enough to forget he even showed up in the first place. Because she couldn’t go through the pain again. The pain of realizing he was gone, leaving her behind.  
His hand suddenly tensed in hers. _

_“No, Clarke, please. Don’t cry.” he trembled, wiping something wet off her cheek. _

_Clarke realized, with a start, that she _was_ crying.  
Fuck. She would never get drunk again.  
It was embarrassing. She hated being so vulnerable. _

_“I’m not crying.” she said, rubbing her eyes. _

_A low, sad chuckle escaped his mouth. His hands were suddenly in her hair, and she wondered what he was doing until the few brands of hair in front of her eyes were gone. He put them behind her ears. _

_“Breathe.” he said. “Fine. I’ll stay… for a bit.” _

_She knew it wasn’t right. But her heart was constantly fighting with her mind, and well, her mind wasn’t clear at the moment. So she went with the heart, and leaned into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist while she was still holding the book.  
Jasper wasn’t with them anymore. He must’ve left at some point, but she didn’t notice.  
She felt Bellamy’s heavy breath on her neck. For a moment, his arms seemed to tighten around her, but then he completely let go of her.  
Clarke refused to move, waiting for him to give in and hug her back.  
But he didn’t. _

_“Clarke, can you… I need to do something.” he told her._

_She could sense, by the sound of his voice, that he had something in mind. She looked up, but he was staring intensely at something, or someone behind her, his brows furrowed. He seemed worried. His hands carefully took her arms away from his body, picking up the book at the same time. _

_“Let me put this somewhere else.”_

_Clarke wanted to protest, but he was already walking past her. She turned around to follow him, then almost stumbled on her feet. The movement made her dizzy.  
Once her head had stopped spinning, she searched for Bellamy, her eyes going around the room. He was nowhere to be found.  
She tried to ignore the heavy feeling settling in her chest.  
He couldn’t leave like this, not after he promised to stay.  
Standing there, alone, like an idiot, she was suddenly aware of a bathroom emergency. She made her way to it, pushing people around her, demoralized.  
It was only once she was done, that she noticed the voices coming from her bedroom. She frowned. She didn’t authorize anyone to get into her room. She was about to snap at the people inside when…_

_“… more than friendly, Bellamy.” the first voice said, firmly. _

_“You don’t know what you saw.” Bellamy replied. _

_“I saw the way you looked at her, that was enough.”_

_Clarke concentrated on the other, familiar voice. Her head hurt, it was difficult to guess who it was. _

_“I told you. Clarke’s my friend.” Bellamy grunted. _

_“Oh, come on! You never looked at Harper like that.”_

_“You’re taking this out of proportion.”_

_“I’m not a fucking idiot.”_

_Suddenly, it snapped into place.  
It was Miller. _

_“That would explain a lot of things.” Miller continued, irritated. “I know you guys used to hang out. But then Gina came back and you _coincidentally _stopped. Gina told us you were acting weird rec-“_

_“This is none of your business!” Bellamy hissed. _

_“It is when it’s hurting my friends!” _

_They remained silent for so long, Clarke expected them to get out of the room at any moment. But Miller spoke again. _

_“Gina’s worried about you. Your sister’s worried about you. _I’m_ worried about you, but you refused to talk to us.” _

_“There’s nothing to worry about.”_

_“Yes, there is. I know you. You’ve been acting weird for weeks now! Is it because of her?”_

_“No! Stop putting this on Clarke!” _

_“Fuck, Bellamy, look me in the eyes!”_

_Another pause. Heavy breathings. _

_“Are you in love with her?” _

_Clarke waited, her heart beating fast. Everything was confused in her head, she couldn’t grasp the meaning of all their words. She pressed her ear against the door.  
Bellamy didn’t answer._

_“You can’t even say it to my face.” Miller spit out, disappointed. “Gina deserves better than that.”_

_“Shut up! Don’t you think I know this?”_

_“Apparently you don’t!”_

_“You have _no_ idea of the truth.” Bellamy thundered. _

_“I know you’re making a mistake.” Miller replied, suddenly much closer. _

_Clarke barely had the time to back off when the door opened with force.  
Her heart dropped.  
Suddenly, she found herself face to face with a furious Miller. His eyes focused on her, and his jaw clenched. He was terrifying.  
Clarke swallowed with difficulty.  
Bellamy arrived behind him, his eyes widening when he spotted Clarke. _

_“Clarke…?” he said, his voice trailing off. _

_Miller casted one last, resentful look at Bellamy, then walked past Clarke without a word. Bellamy sighed, defeated. _

_“Did you hear everything?” he asked Clarke after a moment. _

_“Uh…”_

_She couldn’t even remember what had been said. It seemed important, but her head was spinning again. Maybe because of the rush of adrenaline she felt when Miller was staring at her with those angry eyes.  
She lost her balance. Bellamy caught her arm. _

_“Are you okay?” he wondered, worried. _

_Her heart was beating fast. Too fast. It was all she could hear._

_“I don’t feel great…” she managed to mumble. _

_Then she felt her own body fall, unable to control it, and everything went black. _

_*****_

_When she woke up, it was silent, and bright.  
She struggled to open her eyes, her eyes landing on the familiar night stand next to her bed. Her alarm clock indicated 1:07 pm. She frowned. It was late.  
Of course, it made sense that she would wake up there, in her bedroom. Yet, she had a feeling something happened that she couldn’t remember.  
She straightened up, and as she did she spotted a shape near the bed, making her jump. She put a hand on her mouth to keep herself from screaming.  
Her heart was beating fast when she realized that, seated on the floor, his head uncomfortably resting on the mattress, was a deeply asleep Bellamy.  
After the shock, came the confusion._

_Flashes of the previous suddenly came back to her.  
Her birthday party.  
She drank a lot… dancing with different people... She cringed, remembering some embarrassing moments. Bellamy had come, uninvited. The book…  
She looked around the room, but couldn’t find it from her spot. She wondered where he put it.  
Her eyes landed on him again, and she pursed her lips.  
He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have stayed.  
Why was he still here anyway?  
Whatever were his reasons, she refused to feel sympathy for him. Her head hurt, and even moving was hard, but her mind was clearer.  
And she was angry at him for coming back. Last time, he silently promised he wouldn’t, in that same room. It broke her, more than she wanted to admit, but she was getting used to the idea.  
Having him back, even for a few hours, meant she was back to zero. _

_She sighed, slowly moving her legs so they would hang over the bed, careful not to touch him. Her feet touched the floor, one by one. She got up, eyeing Bellamy to see if the movement was waking him up. He didn’t move an inch.  
She tiptoed to the door, holding her breath. She almost shoot in a bucket next to Bellamy’s legs. Maybe he’d been drinking too much too, and felt too sick to come home.  
Well, he could’ve at least slept on the couch.  
The door creaked a little, but it didn’t disturb him. Clarke closed it behind her, and hurried to the bathroom.  
She felt… dirty. And she kinda looked like it, too. She was wearing her clothes from the previous night, her hair was a mess, and she had dark circles under her eyes. She groaned, picking her toothbrush. She needed to take a shower, too. And an aspirin.  
Since taking a shower meant she had to go back to her room to pick clothes up, she decided to take the aspirin first. She felt so exhausted, she doubted she even had the energy to stand in the shower for too long. At least, her breath smelled great. She didn’t puke during the night, or she didn’t remember if she did. _

_She was surprised to see the living room wasn’t in such a big mess. There were still empty bottles and empty drinks here and there, but it was better than she imagined.  
She picked up the box of aspirins, a glass of water, and sat down on one of the booths by the counter. She sighed heavily, after swallowing the pill, waiting for the headache to pass. She took her head in her hands, trying not to think about anything.  
She may have been dozing off when she heard noises coming from her bedroom.  
She suddenly straightened up, startled.  
Fuck.  
Here it was, the moment when she had to face him.  
She didn’t want to. She wished he could leave without a word, even if she knew she would hate even more.  
He wasn’t even out of the room when he inquired:_

_“Clarke?”_

_She bit her lip._

_“Here.”_

_The door of her room opened and he got out, his hair all over the place, his shirt all wrinkled. He, too, looked like a zombie, and somehow she still thought he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His eyes locked with her for a second, as his body relaxed.  
She looked down, frustrated.  
_‘What do you want?’_ she was close to ask him, but she remained silent.  
He got to her, seating on the booth next to her. He seemed to be about to say something, but she purposely prevented him to do so, knowing she was only buying herself a few seconds. _

_“Aspirin?” she asked blankly._

_It took him a moment to reply. _

_“Yeah. Thanks.”_

_She pushed to box towards him, still refusing to look at him. She quickly removed her hand from it, to avoid any contact just in case.  
They remained silent as he got back up to take a glass of water before coming back to swallow the pill. Even after that, they remained silent.  
Once again, she saw Bellamy open his mouth from the corner of her eye, and she spoke before he did. _

_“There’s an unused toothbrush under the sink, in the bathroom, if you want to use that.”_

_She couldn’t care less if he brushed his teeth or not. She just didn’t want to talk to him. He hesitated. She could feel his eyes burning her face. Then he got up silently, and went to the bathroom.  
Clarke sighed.  
It was hard.  
Maybe she didn’t have the strength to face him.  
Bellamy had something to say, and whatever it was she didn’t want to hear it.  
The careless, impulsive part of her had insisted for him to stay the previous night. And as she’d predicted, she hated herself for that decision.  
She didn’t have the time to prepare herself for what was about to come, he was back way too soon. At the very moment he sat back on the booth, Clarke got up to put her glass in the sink and started to wash it. It was absolutely unnecessary – she had a dishwasher. But she needed a distraction.  
Bellamy, of course, finally took this opportunity to talk to her. _

_“How are you feeling?”_

_She clenched her teeth. Fortunately, she had her back on him. She didn’t want him to see the impact any of his words had on her. He didn’t deserve it. _

_“Fine.”_

_“Good.”_

_She didn’t ask him the same question back, and so an awkward silence settled again.  
Clarke washed the glass a second time. _

_“I… You passed out in my arms, last night.” he explained. “It scared me. I was afraid you wouldn’t feel well during the night so I… I decided to stay with you just in case… if you needed someone…” he was struggling to find the words._

_That explained him sleeping on the floor next to her, and the bucket beside him. It was for her. She repressed the feeling of gratefulness emerging in her chest.  
She didn’t answer. _

_“I cleaned up the apartment a bit once everyone was gone. I went back to check on you and then… I guess I feel asleep.”_

_“You shouldn’t have.” she finally said. _

_Both she and he knew it wasn’t just about the cleaning. It was about him, coming to see her. Giving her a gift. Hugging her. Sleeping next to her.  
She put the glass down with such force she almost broke it, and sighed. Her hands were shaking, so she clenched them into fists.  
For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their breath. Hers was heavy with frustration and desperation.  
And then, he said the words she didn’t want to hear. _

_“I’m sorry.”_

_It was just a whisper, but it made her furious. So furious that her eyes were suddenly filled with tears. She turned around abruptly, facing him. She watched him froze and his eyes widened as he stared at her. _

_“You’re sorry?” she snapped. _

_She got around the counter to stand right in front of him, her heart beating frantically in her chest. Bellamy got down his booth, clenching his jaw.  
They were just a few inches away from each other, and the electricity between them was palpable. It was hurting her, pulling her towards him. She fought against it. _

_“You don’t have the right to be sorry, Bellamy. You made a choice. You should stick to it!” she hissed. _

_She knew, deep inside of her, that it wasn’t totally fair. It was hard for him, too. She could see the torture, the pain in his eyes. He made the right decision, when he decided he shouldn’t see her anymore.  
But she hated him for making that choice, and she hated him even more for coming back into her life. _

_“I know.” he only said. _

_Clarke didn’t take his eyes off him, waiting for more. He _had_ to defend himself. It couldn’t be it. He seemed to understand she wasn’t satisfied with this reply, and he frowned. _

_“I wanted to tell you… I thought it wouldn’t be a problem. With so many people around…” he mumbled._

_She gasped._

_“A problem? So what, as long as there’s a dozen of people standing between us, it’s okay to show up at my place? But the rest of the time, you act as if I didn’t exist?”_

_“It’s more complicated than that.”_

_“Is it, Bellamy? Nobody forced you to come. You could’ve avoided this _problem_, you could’ve avoided to rub it in-“_

_“I wasn’t trying to hurt you!” Bellamy roared. _

_“You’re hurting me _right now_!” she shouted. _

_Those words were like a cry from the heart. They got out before she could catch them. It should make her feel better, lighter, only the impact of this simple sentence hit Bellamy straight to the heart, and she watched as his face crumbled with pain.  
The tears fell on her cheeks.  
He closed his eyes for a few seconds, his breath getting heavier.  
A part of her wanted to apologize for what she just said.  
But the other part of her, stronger, louder, wanted him to face the truth. Even if he was hurting as much as she did in the process. _

_“Does Gina know you’re here?” she asked quietly, knowing very well it was a low blow._

_His eyes opened at once, fierce, tormented. His lips twitched a few times, attempting to form words he couldn’t find. Then he sighed, giving up.  
Clarke knew exactly what it meant. _

_“Why?” she asked him, provoking him. “Are you afraid you’re going to hurt her, too? Well, guess what. You already did that.”_

_“Stop it.”_

_She took a step closer. Their faces were so close she felt his breath on her wet cheeks._

_“But it’s not only that.” she continued. “We both know that’s not the only reason why you’re keeping this from her.”_

_Bellamy’s lips tightened in a line. He was struggling, she could see it, sense it. _

_“Admit it, Bellamy.” she demanded. _

_A fire was burning inside of her, and it was taking over all of her thoughts. _

_“Clarke.” he warned. _

_“Come on!” _

_But he stared and stared at her, silent.  
The fire exploded inside of her.  
She was sick of this. Sick of the lies, of the unspoken, of this love that was eating her from the inside. She wanted him to admit it cost him as much as it cost her.  
She wanted the fire to burn him, too.  
And so she took his face in her hands, ignoring the shock freezing his body, and left him no choice as she pressed her lips against his.  
For a moment, he was only ice against her.  
But then the warmth of the fire seemed to reach him, and he sighed on her lips, wrapping his arms around her. _

_Suddenly, he was all over her. His hands rummaged through her hair, caressed her face, crushed her against him. She felt his tongue on her lower lip, and she opened her mouth, allowing the kiss to deepen. When she moaned against him, he kissed her even more passionately, so much that they both couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter.  
They were burning together.  
And it was the best feeling Clarke’d ever felt.  
Even when she had to stop to catch her breath, he only left her a few seconds before he was kissing her again.  
It could’ve lasted forever.  
Until it ended, as suddenly as it had started. They remained pressed against each other, only inches separating their faces. But both remained still, breathing hard, staring at each other.  
The unbelievable excitement in their eyes was slowly replaced by realization. _

_“Fuck.” Bellamy whispered. _

_He took a step back. Clarke let her hands fall from his face.  
She could already feel the lump in her throat.  
Bellamy turned his back on her, a hand on the counter, as if to help him stand.  
She waited for the storm. But it was too quiet. She tried to find something to say, but couldn’t.  
It seemed like hours until Bellamy spoke again, his voice breaking on each words. _

_“Does it make you feel better?”_

_Clarke was too numb to reply.  
He turned around to face her, his eyes red. He was struggling not to cry. _

_“Huh?” he insisted, choked up. “Did it make it any easier? Is it going to be easier to move on with our lives knowing what we did?” _

_There was nothing she could say to that.  
She’d made a terrible mistake.  
Her anger had blinded her. She wanted revenge. Instead, she broken both of their hearts even more._

_“No.” she whispered. _

_Bellamy took his head in his hands, swearing. His body was shaking. _

_“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” he kept repeating. _

_Clarke was crying quietly.  
Her eyes followed him as he picked up his shoes against one of the walls, and sat on the couch to put them on, all the while shaking his head and talking to himself. He looked defeated, crushed. He was careful to avoid her gaze.  
He remained on the couch for a while, not moving, lost in his torturing thoughts.  
When he got up, he wiped a tear off his cheek. He walked past Clarke to the front door and opened it.  
They locked eyes one last time before he disappeared. _


	25. The regret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
Here is the new chapter, and wow. A lot of things happens in this one. You probably are all going to hate me once you reach the end. Oupsie!  
Can't wait to see what you think of it. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos ❤️  
Enjoy!

** _20/04/2016_ **

**  
**Monday : 10:32 AM

_‘I’m truly sorry for what happened. It’s my fault, I was being stupid.’_

Monday : 2:21 PM

_‘Please, don’t hate me for this. I’m truly sorry.’ _

Monday : 3:07 PM

_‘Come on, Bellamy. You won’t answer my calls, and I know you’re reading my texts. Don’t act like I don’t exist anymore, I’m begging you.’_

**  
**Monday : 7:18 PM

_‘You know you’re going to have to face me one day. We need to talk about this, as adults.’_

Tuesday : 8:14 AM

_‘Still no answers? Fine.’  
  
_

Tuesday : 4:22 PM

_‘Oh fuck! If you want me to leave you alone then you’re going to have to ask for it.’  
  
_

Tuesday : 5:59 PM

_‘I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t harass you like this. But I can’t stop thinking about that day, and I know it’s the same for you. I just need to talk about it once and for all.’  
  
_

Tuesday : 9:37 PM

_‘Are you scared I’ll tell Gina? ‘Cause I won’t. It was a stupid mistake.’  
  
_

Wednesday : 9:51 AM

_‘It can’t end like this. I can’t accept it.’  
  
_

Wednesday : 11:35 AM

_‘I know we can’t be friends anymore. But is a proper goodbye too much to ask?’  
  
_

Wednesday : 12:40 AM

_‘Just answer me. Please.’ _

_“Hey, Clarke!”_

_Clarke startled, looking up from her phone in her hands.  
Four pairs of eyes were focused on her face, expecting her to do something. She realized that the fourth person waiting for her was a waiter, and that she was supposed to tell him what she wished to eat._

_“Oups, sorry.”_

_Clarke took a quick look at the menu and ordered the first thing she saw. A hamburger. The waiter left, but the other three pairs of eyes were still staring intently at her. Clarke scowled at her three friends. _

_“What?”_

_Harper answered first._

_“You seem to have a lot on your mind, recently.”_

_Jasper, seated right in front of Clarke, nodded vehemently. Monty frowned. _

_“Oh.” Clarke only answered. “Sorry.” _

_“No, it’s fine.” Monty reassured her. “We’re just wondering what’s happening.” _

_Clarke felt a lump in her throat, but shrugged, trying to look unbothered. _

_“Nothing. I’m fine.”_

_“Sure.” Jasper snorted. _

_Seeing her friends weren’t buying it, Clarke sighed. She picked up her bag and pretended she was looking for something to avoid their gazes. _

_“So how was your weekend?” she asked them, obviously changing the subject. “I hope your hangover wasn’t so bad…”_

_“Clarke.”_

_Harper put a hand on hers. _

_“You know we would never judge you, whatever happens, right?” she smiled encouragingly._

_Clarke gulped.  
_Whatever happens.  
_Would they be on her side,_ _even for this? Even for kissing a guy who didn’t belong with her? Not because she believed he didn’t, but because he’d chosen someone else over her?  
Even if she’d fallen in love with him, knowing very well he already had a girlfriend? Even if she was too selfish to let him go?  
She looked down, because it was too hard to stare at them when the shame was invading her entire body. _

_“Clarke.” Monty said, quietly. “You don’t have to carry the weight of the world all by yourself. We can help you. Just talk to us.”_

_Clarke bit her lip, fighting back the tears blinding her vision. She wouldn’t cry. She refused to cry. _

_“I don’t think you can help me. Nobody can.” she said after a few seconds, when she was certain her voice wouldn’t break. _

_“Try.” Jasper insisted._

_Clarke hesitated.  
She remained silent for so long, her head buzzing as she tried to think clearly, that the waiters had the time to come back with their plates. She didn’t have the courage to raise her gaze to thank him, because it felt as if even he could see she was terrible person. It was stupid, she knew that. He didn’t know her. But still.  
Once he was gone, someone cleared their throat loudly. Probably Jasper. Harper still had her hand on hers, and Clarke was very aware of their eyes not leaving her face.  
She took a deep breath. _

_“I… uh…” she started. _

_It was hard to find the words.  
She didn’t even know where to start.  
Should she talk about how it all started? How she and Bellamy became friends? How and why she fell in love with him?  
But she had a feeling none of this would be a surprise to them. They probably guessed it all a long time ago.  
She could see it in the way Monty stared intently at her. In the way Harper checked on her every day. In the way Jasper was always trying to make her laugh. _

_“I did…” she started again, then sighed because it was so damn difficult. _

_She frowned, thinking. She had to do this differently.  
An idea emerged in her head. _

_“Okay, so let’s say… there’s this girl.” _

_Clarke finally locked eyes with her friends’, hoping they would play along, pretending they didn’t know who she was talking about.  
They only seemed confused. _

_“Let’s call her… Cassie.” Clarke continued anyway. “One day, she meets this guy called… uh… Brian.” _

_Jasper burst out laughing._

_“Brian? What the fuck are y-“ he stopped abruptly when Harper casted a murderous look at him. “Oh. Sorry.” _

_Harper focused her attention on Clarke, a warm smile suddenly appearing on her lips. _

_“Keep going.” she encouraged Clarke. _

_Clarke started playing with her hands. _

_“So, you know, Cassie and Brian don’t really get along at first. But then they become really good friends. Like, they spend almost every day together.” _

_Her friends seemed to understand what she was doing. They all nodded at once, hanging on her every word. _

_“And uh… Maybe she ends up… caring for him a lot. Having feelings for him. Hypothetically of course.”_

_“Of course.” Harper repeated very seriously. _

_“The thing is…” Clarke hesitated. “Brian… already has a girlfriend.” _

_“Oh.” Jasper said, as if this information genuinely surprised him. “That sucks.”_

_“Yeah.” Clarke snorted, half-smiling. “Anyway, Cassie knew all along he had a girlfriend. But… she couldn’t help it. It was just so easy to love him…”_

_Clarke winced. It was getting too personal, even with this stupid game. She felt both ridiculous and shameful. _

_“Cassie didn’t _want_ to ruin this relationship. But, ugh! Gin… I mean, his girlfriend… Gemma, she was just… gone. For a very long time. And it didn’t seem like Brian was very happy with the situation and…”_

_Clarke stopped, closing her eyes.  
She was close to just tell them everything.  
But she didn’t want to.  
They only needed to know the most important part of the story. The part that hurt. _

_“What if…” she sighed. “What if he didn’t chose her? What if she knew she should step back, and let him be with the woman he loved? But what if instead…” _

_She took her head in her hands. _

_“What if she ruined everything, because she kissed him anyway?” _

_Her friends were dead silent around her.  
Clarke felt the whole widening in her chest, as the weight of the shame was crushing her, making it difficult for her to breathe.  
They lied. They would judge her for this. Who wouldn’t? She was the bitch of the story. She didn’t deserve their sympathy. Soon they would be gone, leaving her behind like they all eventually did. Like _he_ did.  
So much time passed before one of them talked, that Clarke wondered if she just didn’t hear them leave. _

_“So…” someone said – Clarke recognized Monty’s voice – “Is there a possibility Brian… hypothetically… might feel the same for Cassie?” _

_Clarke frowned.  
The question made her pause. She didn’t expect it. _

_“I… I don’t know. I think. Maybe…?” she stuttered, still hidden behind her hands. _

_“Hmm.” _

_A delicate hand rubbed Clarke’s back. _

_“And how does Brian handle the situation?” Harper asked calmly. _

_There was no judgement in her voice, only concern. Clarke relaxed a little. _

_“He doesn’t want to talk to Cassie anymore.” Clarke murmured, loud enough for them to hear. _

_Someone grunted. _

_“Brian’s an asshole!” Jasper exclaimed. “Cassie deserves much better.” _

_“Yeah but I… She’s the one who kissed him. He made a decision, and she didn’t respect it.” Clarke replied, sounding defeated. _

_“Brian’s also responsible. He should’ve known this all thing wouldn’t end well.” Harper countered. _

_Clarke sighed. She didn’t feel any better.  
Actually, she felt more heartbroken than ever._

_“Clarke, you’re only human. You made a mistake, but so did he.” Monty explained, his voice soothing her. “It doesn’t make you a monster.”_

_Clarke pursed her lip, feeling a lump in her throat. _

_“Doesn’t it?”_

_“No, it only shows you’re imperfect. We all are.” Monty insisted. _

_“Yeah. You can be a pain in the ass, but we still love you.” Jasper added. _

_Clarke tried to smile, but it only brought tears to her eyes. Harper put an arm around her shoulders. _

_“You two need to have a real discussion, once and for all.” the blond told her, firmly. _

_“He won’t talk to me.”_

_“Make him, then. He can’t avoid you forever.” _

_Clarke sighed.  
Maybe they were right.  
Maybe it was the right thing to do.  
They couldn’t live like this. They had to face their issues, no matter the consequences. _

_“We’ll be by your side. Always.” Jasper reassured her. “And I love you, but can we eat? It’s already cold.” _

_Clarke smiled, the first real smiled in days. _

* * *

_ **23/04/2016** _

_“Ugh! Come on, Clarke!” she groaned. _

_She’d been trying to find the courage to get out of the car for about half an hour, but her legs seemed frozen. She was such a coward.  
She didn’t come all this way do to nothing. She’b been preparing for this for three days. _

_“You can do this.” she murmured to herself. “You have to do this.”_

_She needed to talk to him, and since he refused to answer her texts and her calls, he left her no choice but to show up at his apartment.  
She had a plan, obviously, but she was trying not to think about it much because there was a 60% chance it wouldn’t work out.  
She was mostly baiting on the fact that it was Saturday night, which meant Gina was probably singing in a bar somewhere. If she didn’t, though, Clarke would have to face her _and_ Bellamy. Needless to say this was the worst case scenario.  
Bellamy could also be absent. Or he could pretend he’s not here.  
Either way, Clarke had to try.  
She took a long, long breath. _

_“Fuck.”_

_Before she could hesitate one more time, she opened the door of her car and got out hastily. She slammed the door behind her with force, as if to convince herself she was determined to finish what she started.  
Getting inside the building ended up being the easiest part, as she only had to wait for a few minutes before someone came out and held the door for her. She took her time, deciding to climb the stairs instead of getting in the elevator. But after that, came the hardest part. The final boss, aka knocking at the door.  
Her hands were sweaty.  
She was practically sure she could hear voices behind the door, which meant someone was there. It could be the TV.  
Her heart was beating so fast, she almost felt sick. _

_“Come on, come on, come on…” she whispered. _

_She closed her eyes, and knocked.  
She immediately wanted to run away. _

_“Fuck.” she swore. _

_What was she doing?  
She could hear someone move, their steps getting closer. Her mind imagined the worst : Gina.  
The door opened. _

_“Oh.” she only said. _

_Clarke was stunned.  
She remained still, wide-eyed, staring at this woman she didn’t know but seemed familiar. Did she get the wrong address? But no, she was certain she was at the right place.  
The black-haired woman stared intently at her, surprised too. Her eyes, who seemed welcoming a second ago, suddenly narrowed.  
Something in her expression – Clarke couldn’t pinpoint what exactly – reminded her of someone she knew all too well.  
Suddenly, everything clicked into place.  
The brunette talked first. _

_“You must be Clarke.” she snapped, and the tone of voice was so venomous Clarke had chills all the way down her spine. _

_She never met her before, yet she seemed to _despise_ her._

_“You must be Octavia.” Clarke replied, because she didn’t know what else to say. _

_Octavia crossed her arms, her piercing green eyes analyzing Clarke, looking her up and down. The more seconds passed, the more Clarke was losing her confidence. _

_“Where’s Bellamy?” she asked, controlling her voice. _

_Clarke slightly raised her head and straightened her shoulders, hoping she looked more determined than she actually was. She felt threatened by the brunette, and she didn’t like it. _

_“That’s none of your business.” Octavia immediately replied, coldly. _

_Clarke swallowed with difficulty.  
She wouldn’t let go. _

_“I need to talk to him.”_

_“No, you don’t.” Octavia took a step closer. “What you need to do is get a fucking life and leave my family alone.” _

_Clarke clenched her fists, anger slowly making its way to her heart. Octavia didn’t know her, she didn’t have the right to treat her like this._

_“I will if you let me talk to him.” Clarke insisted. _

_Octavia greeted her teeth together. _

_“Now, listen.” she hissed. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, _Clarke_” – she spat her name – “but it’s over. You lost. Gina’s like a sister to me, and if you hurt her and Bellamy again, I will make you pay for it. Do you understand?” _

_Clarke was breathing heavily, conflicted between the anger and the pain Octavia’s words had provoked in her.  
Before she could respond, Octavia continued:_

_“You’re a smart girl, I’m sure. Don’t do anything stupid, or you’ll regret it.” _

_Clarke’s whole body was frozen with shock and rage. She couldn’t believe what just happened. None of her imaginary scenarios had prepared her for this.  
She wanted to snap back, to defend herself.  
But before she could even open her mouth, Octavia slapped the door in her face. _

* * *

** _30/04/2016_ **

_“Hello?” Clarke answered. _

_“Hi, how’re you doing?” Monty asked her on the other end of the phone. _

_“Hm, fine.” Clarke shrugged. _

_She didn’t feel fine, of course she didn’t. Monty knew that. Clarke knew that he knew that. But what could she say? _‘No, I’m a fucking mess. My whole body hurts and sometimes it feels like I’m gonna die.’_? Nobody wants to hear that. _

_“Just fine or fine fine?” Monty insisted. _

_Meaning: did you cry in bed all day or did you manage to get on your feet?  
Clarke hesitated. _

_“Fine fine.” _

_It was a mixed of both, really. But at least it reassured Monty.  
Ever since her encounter with Octavia, things only got worse. Bellamy still didn’t answer her. She didn’t even know if Octavia told him about her showing up. Maybe he did know, but he just didn’t care. _

_“Good.” Monty replied. _

_Clarke waited, but her friend didn’t add anything else. She muted the sound of her TV. _

_“That’s it? You were just checking on me?” _

_“Well, yeah but…” Monty hesitated. _

_“What is it?” Clarke frowned. _

_When Monty hesitated to tell Clarke about something, it didn’t mean anything good. Clarke’s heart missed a bit, dreading what was about to come. _

_“It’s just… I guess you’re not coming tomorrow?”_

_Clarke thought for a few seconds, searching in her memory for an event she might have forgotten. She didn’t find anything._

_“Uh… what’s going on tomorrow?” _

_A pause. _

_“So you don’t know.” Monty sighed._

_“Don’t know what?”_

_“About the party.” _

_“What party? Monty, what are you talking about?” Clarke insisted, anxious. _

_“It’s uh… It’s at Bellamy’s.” _

_“Oh.”_

_Well, that explained why she wasn’t invited. Clarke tried to ignore the pain torturing her heart. Even hearing his name was hurting her._

_“Why are you telling me this?” she winced. _

_She wished she didn’t know this at all. If he called her to rub it in, then he shouldn’t have called at all. _

_“Because… they’re doing it for a reason.”_

_“What do you mean?” Clarke trembled. _

_She was starting to lose patience.  
Monty sighed, again.  
Fuck.  
What was going on? _

_“Bellamy and Gina organized this party for… a special occasion. I thought maybe you were already aware, but apparently you’re-“_

_“Monty! Just spit it out already!”_

_“They’re leaving.” Monty said hastily. _

_Clarke froze. _

_“They’re… But where? When?” _

_It took Monty forever to reply.  
Clarke felt like someone was tearing her heart off her chest to throw it in the fire._

_“Gina found a job in England.” he finally murmured. _

_Clarke couldn’t breathe. _

_“He’s going with her, Clarke. This is a goodbye party. I’m so sorry.”_

* * *

**16/03/2019**

Bellamy was trying not to sleep.  
Or, at least, to sleep as little as possible.  
He was pretty good at distracting himself during the day, to avoid thinking about… anything. Anyone. He could only count on himself.  
He’d lost his friends, his sister on his way to the truth. He’d lost _her_, too.  
This one hurt a lot.  
He rejected the image of her face emerging in his mind. If he imagined her, then he would remember everything that happened between them, he would remember how it felt to lose her, and it would kill him.  
But he couldn’t escape the longing feeling of emptiness in his chest.

He paid a high price to know the truth, and he didn’t even get it in the end.  
It was something he managed to forget every few minutes during the day, when he’d force himself to watch a movie, to play a game, to cook, to clean up his apartment for the eleven’s time. But at night, when he laid in his bed when nothing left to do but close his eyes, his thoughts wandered in the painful land of memories.  
Which made of sleep his number one enemy.  
However, as much as he was fighting against himself, Bellamy couldn’t stay awake at all times. And so he found himself dozing off in the middle of the afternoon, struggling to focus on the brand new documentary he’d started on Netflix.  
But he wasn’t resting.  
Instead, his sleep was full of unpleasant, blurry dreams.  
Except one.  
It started just like the other times.

_“Bellamy.”_

_It was the same familiar voice, and he knew instantly who it was. _

_“Gina” he said. _

_Everything was blurred, but it was getting clearer and clearer. Just like the other times, he was seated on the passenger seat of the car. It was dark outside. _

_“Bellamy.” she repeated. _

_He focused his eyes on her, and his heart missed a beat. He could see her face so clearly, it was as if she was really there, with him. He could almost touch her.  
He realized, with a shock, that this sight wasn’t scaring him anymore. He suddenly felt very calm.  
Gina half smiled, as if she knew. But her eyes were wet, as if she’d been crying. He’d never noticed that before.  
He wanted to ask her so many things.  
Instead, he only pronounced two words._

_“Tell me.”_

_For so long, she’d been trying to make him listen.  
At last, he was ready.  
A tear fell on her cheek, but when she talked to him, it was as if she was freeing the both of them.  
He listened carefully. Her words were so clear in his head that he understood, with absolute certainty, that she’d said them before.  
Gina wasn’t coming back to haunt his dreams, to punish him, to remind him that she was still there, somewhere.  
It was his subconscious trying to send him a message. A message he knew all this time, but couldn’t remember.  
He waited for the other car to come, crashing into them.  
It never came.  
When she was done, Gina smiled at him. It was a real, happy smile. Her eyes were soft. _

Bellamy opened his eyes.  
He knew what he had to do.

*****

Clarke wandered a long time in the cemetery before she found it.  
The sight of it left her breathless, and it took a few seconds to calm herself.  
She sat down, her body shaking. She noticed someone had recently brought flower. Her heart broke.  
It was the first time she went on Gina’s grave.  
Shame and guilt always kept her from going. The idea of seeing her name written on this cold stone was more frightening than telling Bellamy the truth. It was right in front of her now, and the feeling in her chest couldn’t be described. There was just too much.

_GINA MARTIN_

Shame, sadness, anger, pain.  
No matter what happened, a part of her would always feel responsible of Gina’s death. Without Clarke, Gina would still be alive. She would be in Europe, singing in her bar, a smile on her face. She would’ve been happy and free. She would’ve lived.  
But she was dead, and Clarke was still here. She’d spent the past 3 years telling herself that it should’ve been her name written on the grave. That she didn’t deserve happiness or peace.  
Now, seated on the ground, all by herself, Clarke wondered what brought her there. What was she looking for? Forgiveness ? Maybe. Probably. Afterall, it didn’t matter. Clarke was only talking to herself.

Even if each time her eyes landed on the cold stone felt like a slap in her face, Clarke needed to be there. She needed to do this, to talk to Gina. Like she should’ve done before it was too late. If she had been fully honest with her from the beginning, maybe none of this would’ve happened. Unfortunately, Clarke couldn’t change the past, but she could try to make her peace with it.

“Hi, Gina.” she whispered, her voice shaking.

Saying her name, as she sat in front of her grave, was one of the hardest thing Clarke ever did in her life. It impacted her so much she didn’t know what else to say for a while. She felt the usual heavy burden in her chest taking more and more room inside of her.

“I’m probably the last person you’d want to see. If you can see me, somewhere.”

Because yeah, Clarke was probably speaking to no one but herself. It didn’t matter much, she was doing it for herself in the first place. Yet, Clarke liked the idea of Gina hearing her. As if there was still a way for them to make peace, even with one of them gone.

“I have so much to say, I just don’t know where to begin.” Clarke continued. “I want to tell you about how much I hated myself after you died, and I still do. I want to tell you my life’s been a hell ever since that day. I want to tell you that your face haunted my dreams for so long I was scared to sleep. I want to tell you that even after everything, I’m still in love with Bellamy, and I despise myself for it. But most of all, I want to tell that I’m so, so fucking sorry.” her voice broke.

Tears invaded her eyes, and soon they were sliding down her cheeks.

“God, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. You have no idea how much I would give to… You didn’t deserve…” she sobbed.

Her entire body was shaking as she struggled to breathe. She felt so much pain and guilt her stomach hurt, but her cries were freeing her from all the thoughts and emotions she kept to herself all these years. She’d been hiding from Bellamy for so long, when it reality she was hiding from Gina’s ghost and the reality of her death.  
It was hitting her, leaving her breathless. But somewhere, inside of her, she could feel relief slowly blooming, taking off the weights on her shoulders.  
She cried for a very long time before she was able to regain control of herself. It was slow, but at some point her chest stopped hurting so much it was unbearable, and her tears stopped falling. Her breathing got even. She felt completely drained from any energy, but she forced herself to look at the grave, focusing on the letters.

“I don’t know if you would’ve forgiven me.” she said, her voice hoarse. “But I have to forgive myself. I’m so exhausted. I need this. I need to be in peace. I’ve had enough. And…”

Clarke stopped, closing her eyes. It was so _fucking_ hard.

“I’ve lost _him _again. I was always meant to lose him. And yet, if he came back to me now…”

She clenched her fists as she felt the tears threatening to fall again.

“I won’t have the strength to leave him again.” she whispered. “Because I need him, and I love him. I know I don’t deserve any of this. But is it so terrible to hope for happiness? Don’t I deserve a bit of that, too?”

She felt a tiny, little bit part of the weight she felt in her chest disappear. Breathing felt easier, even if it still hurt.

“I will always carry the guilt of your death. I will never be free of that. But as long as I hate myself for what happened that night, I won’t ever find peace. And I want to, so bad.”

Clarke smiled. It was a sad smile, but still. It was… something. The beginning of something knew. Something close to healing.

“I hope you’re in peace, too.” she concluded.

Clarke stood. Her legs felt weak, but she felt better. Not quite good, but better. The pain was still here, it would probably never go, but it wasn’t unbearable. She casted one last look at Gina’s grave.

“Goodbye, Gina.”

She regretted not bringing any flowers, but it weirdly didn’t feel right. Maybe a next time.  
She turned away and walked out of the cemetery, wiping the last tears off her cheeks. She took a deep breath, held it for a second, then let it out.  
She was free.

*****

Clarke was surprised by the number of missed calls she had when she turned her phone back on, but she ignored them when she saw they were from Raven. She was probably worried Clarke wasn’t back yet. She would call her back once she was in the uber, but for now she needed a break.  
Fifteen minutes later, her phone was buzzing in her pocket. Clarke sighed. It was Raven, again.  
She spotted the uber coming in her direction at the very moment she picked up the phone.

“I’m on my way.” Clarke immediately said, hoping she didn’t sound too exhausted.

She didn’t want Raven to worry.

“What took you so fucking long?” Raven barked in response, startling Clarke.

“Uh… Just wait for a minute.”

Clarke got into the car, putting down her phone on the sit beside her, ignoring the shouts coming from Raven.

“Hi.”

“Hi. So where do I take you?”

It was only once Clarke gave the driver the address that she noticed the song on the radio. She was about to pick the phone back up, but it made her pause.

_“…tears come streaming down your face.  
'Cause you lose something you can't replace.”_

Clarke’s heart missed a bit.

_“When you love someone but it goes to waste.  
Could it be worse?”_

_Gina_, she thought as she remembered. That time, at the bar. It was the song she was singing. Clarke remembered the impact these lyrics had on her. This time, though, she listened to the rest of the song more carefully.

_“Lights will guide you home,  
And ignite your bones,  
And I will try to fix you.”_

_‘You can’t _fix_ someone. You just gotta accept them the way they are. Sometimes it’s not enough.’ Clarke had said. _

_“But high up above or down below,  
When you’re too in love to let it go.  
But if you never try you'll never know,  
Just what you're worth.”_

_‘Well, I think it’s hopeful.’ Gina had replied. ’Cause even when everything seems lost, there’s always a way. As long as you keep trying.’_

Clarke leaned back in her seat.  
Was the universe sending her a sign?  
It probably was a happy coincidence. Maybe it didn’t mean anything at all. But maybe it did.  
Clarke shook her head, a small smile on her lips.  
She picked up the phone.

“Sorry. I’m in the uber, I-“ she started.

“_What the fuck_, Clarke! Do you know how many times I tried to call you? Why did you turn your phone off?” her friend was yelling at her.

“Wow! Again, I’m sorry. There’s nothing to worry about, I’ll be here soon!” Clarke exclaimed, shocked.

What was wrong with Raven? She knew where Clarke was spending her afternoon, and that she would be busy.

“Worry? I’m not worried, Clarke, I’m _furious_!”

“Calm down! What is going on?” Clarke frowned.

“He came here! And you wouldn’t answer your _fucking _phone!” Raven shouted.

Clarke froze.

“What?”

“Yeah, you heard me. Your _Bellamy _came by, and he fucking lost it!”

Clarke absently checked her phone to see if he tried to call her, too.

“Fuck.” she whispered.

He called her six times.  
Clarke clenched her jaw.  
He must’ve been so angry at her he wanted to confront her. That was the only logical explanation.

“Is he still here?” Clarke asked, panicked.

“No, he left like, ten minutes ago or something.”

“But… What happened?”

Raven heavily sighed.

“You should’ve seen him, Clarke. He was almost… _frantic_. He said he had to see you, that it was important. He insisted…”

Clarke was speechless.

“And how…? I mean, what did he say? Why…?” she stuttered, ignoring the weird look the driver casted at her.

“He said he had to know what happened that night. He was so stressed out, and we couldn’t reach you… Then we started arguing and…Clarke, you have to understand…” Raven’s voice trailed off, suddenly tensed.

Clarke waited, her heart beating so fast her body was shaking.

“What? What happened?”

“I’m sorry, Clarke.”

“What?” Clarke demanded.

“We waited for _hours_. He was so insistent… I couldn’t hold it in any longer.”

No.  
It couldn’t be happening.  
Clarke was hallucinating.  
No. She wouldn’t accept it.

“What have you done?” Clarke managed to ask, her voice almost her murmur.

“I told him what happened.” Raven replied, sounding sorry.

Clarke’s head was spinning.  
She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe.

“What did you tell him, exactly?” she trembled, even though she already knew the answer.

Raven took a few seconds to reply.

“Everything.”


	26. The accident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow.  
This is it.  
This is THE chapter everyone's been waiting for.  
You saw it in the title - you're finally going to find out what happened that night.  
This is hands down the most difficult chapter I've ever written. I can't believe I get to finally tell this part of the story. I know many people have their own theories and expectations, so I truly hope you won't be disappointed. I need to know, more than ever, what you thought about this one.  
You'll know almost everything, but there still are revelations coming!  
I hope you'll love this so much!!  
Thank you for your support. I never thought the day I'd publish this chapter would come, but here we are. This is all thanks to your comments and kudos ❤️

** _01/05/2016_ **

_She tried to convince herself she shouldn’t go._  
_She shouldn’t go._  
_She should let him leave. She should accept his decision, accept to be a part of his past. She should try to move on knowing she would probably never see him again._  
_England._  
_He was going to England with her._  
_Was he so desperate to get rid off Clarke that he decided to move on another continent? Maybe she was only that – a weight on his shoulders._  
_It hurt so bad she bit her lip, fighting the tears invading her eyes. She wanted to be strong. She wanted to be able to say farewell with dignity._

_But she felt so much anger, so much pain. Him leaving, without telling her, was his biggest betrayal.  
She thought about it nonstop for two days, reflecting on what to do or not.  
Of course, she shouldn’t go to that damn party. It would only end with her heart broken, if it could be more broken than it already was.  
But she wanted an explanation.  
She wanted him to face her, to face what happened once and for all. Even if he hated her.  
Leaving meant starting anew for him. But for Clarke, it meant living with regret and what ifs for the rest of her life.  
It was selfish, maybe, but she couldn’t accept it.  
Which led her there – in front of the building of his apartment, waiting for Jasper to discreetly ask Bellamy to get down and talk to her._

‘I won’t leave until he does.’ _she told a panicked Jasper on the phone. _‘I’ll wait until morning if I have to. Tell him I don’t want to argue with him, I just want a proper goodbye.’  
_It was the truth. She was only asking for a real, honest conversation. He owed her that. She didn’t want a confrontation. She felt too exhausted for that, physically and mentally._  
_It’d been twenty minutes since the phone call already, and Bellamy still wasn’t joining her. She sent Jasper a few texts, begging him to insist, but she received no answer._  
_She wouldn’t give up. She would talk to him no matter what._

_She was pacing in front of the building, her heart beating so fast she felt nauseous. She could hear the loud music above her, coming from one of the opened windows. If she took a few steps back, she could even see the bluish colors of the lights in the room, sometimes switching to another color. It felt lonely and sad, to stand all alone in the dark street when dozens of people were having fun up there, including some of her friends._  
_Jasper, Monty and Harper hesitated to go out of respect for Clarke, but she insisted. She didn’t want her friends to feel obligated to chose between Bellamy and her. They were adults, they would deal with their problems as ones._  
_Clarke sighed for the hundredth time, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans._  
_He wasn’t coming._

_“Fuck.” she muttered._

‘Just a few minutes’_, she thought, her back to the building as she was pacing. _‘I only ask for a few minutes!’

_He had to talk to her. He couldn’t avoid her forever. He had to be honest, for once. Because if he didn’t come, if he didn’t…_  
_She heard the door open behind her._  
_Her breath caught in her chest and she turned around abruptly, almost stumbling on her feet in the process._  
_Then she stopped, and her heart sank._  
_He was there, staring at her as the door slowly closed behind him. He remained still, his jaw clenched and a somber expression on his face._

_He looked… pained, frustrated, conflicted. But he was _there_, finally. Even standing a few feet away from him, she could feel the tension emanating from his body._  
_He wasn’t pleased she showed up, of course. She was expecting it, just as she was expecting the pain in her chest once her eyes landed on him._  
_She felt so overwhelmed by her emotions – sadness, anger, love, relief, fear – that it took her a moment before she was able to move. Bellamy waited, silent. His eyes didn’t leave her face, his body remained frozen, his arms crossed across his chest. He was suddenly hard to read, as if he was fighting against himself to seem impassive._  
_Clarke winced, hesitating. She took a step towards him. When Bellamy didn’t react, she got a bit closer._

_“C-Can we talk?” she asked, her voice shaking._

_She already felt so… weak. She hated that. She hated the effect he had on her, and at the same time she never felt more alive than when his dark eyes met hers._  
_Bellamy took a look behind him, past the glass door, as if to check if anyone could hear them._

_“Come with me.” he said, not even looking at Clarke as he finally walked away from the door._

_Clarke frowned, confused, but followed him anyway. They didn’t go far – just at the corner of the building. It’s only once he’d come to a stop and turned around to face her that she realized he was scared someone would see them together._  
_That someone was probably Gina._  
_Clarke winced. It made sense, but still. They couldn’t even have a normal conversation without having the impression they were doing something wrong._  
_Bellamy sighed._

_“Go on.”_

_Clarke stared at him, waiting for him to lock eyes with her. She was hoping, now that they were isolated, that he would be more... open. When he did meet her eyes though, the only thing she saw was impatience. Because he didn’t want to hear what she had to say or because he didn’t want to be seen with her, she didn’t know._  
_Clarke held her head up and clenched her jaw._

_“I wanted to say goodbye.” she declared, her voice firm._

_If he refused to show any kind of emotion, then so would she._  
_But under the façade, her heart was beating so fast in her chest she could hardly concentrate._  
_Bellamy barely reacted aside from a nod._

_“Okay.” he said._

_Clarke waited._  
_For a few seconds he didn’t say anything else, but then he took a deep breath and added:_

_“Goodbye, then.”_

_His voice was so neutral, so clear, he could’ve been talking about the weather. But no, they were his final words to her. His final words before he left Clarke behind, and it didn’t seem to matter._  
_Clarke was so shocked she could barely respond._

_“G-Goodbye.” she managed to pronounce._

_Bellamy nodded, and for half a second a strange gleam appeared in his eyes. It was gone before Clarke could understand it._  
_Bellamy walked past her frozen body, almost touching her._  
_He took a step. And another._  
_Clarke snapped out of her trance._

_"So, this is it?” she shouted at him, turning around abruptly._

_He stopped, his back still on her._

_“Huh?” she continued. “You’re just gonna leave? And that’s it, end of the story?”_

_Bellamy was not moving._  
_Clarke felt fury replacing sadness, fear, desire in every cells of her body. She continued, the words coming out of her mouth before she could even process them._

_“This all you got, a shitty goodbye? After everything, don't I deserve a bit of consideration? Of respect? No?”_

_“Stop it.” she heard him say, quietly._

_“Am I such a fucking inconvenient for you that seeing my face is unbearable? Is that all I am now, a mistake in your perfect life? Do you regret knowing me so much that you can’t even talk to me?” she spat, clenching her fists._

_“No!” he exclaimed, finally facing her again._

_At last, she saw emotions in his eyes. They weren’t the positive ones, but it was better than nothing. It only encouraged her to keep going._

_“Really? Then why are you doing this? Is it about the kiss?”_

_Bellamy flinched on the last word._

_"I told you.” she continued, more calmly but still angry. “I'm sorry, for kissing you, I am. Truly. And I understand we couldn’t be friends anymore, but you didn’t have to…”_

_She trailed off, feeling a lump in her throat. Her body was shaking. She took a deep breath and looked up because she didn’t want to see his face when he would hear what she was about to say._

_“You broke my heart, Bellamy.” she told him, her voice trembling. “You broke my heart into pieces. Then you came back, fixed it and broke it again. And now you’re leaving without a look behind as if it none of this mattered to you. As if I..."_

_Clarke fought back the tears. She felt overwhelmed with disappointment and anguish._  
_She stared at him. Bellamy was looking down, his curls hiding his eyes. She couldn’t guess how he felt, what he thought. She could only notice the way all of his muscles were tensed. He still refused to face her for real._

_"You know what, I guess I should apologize for ruining your life, 'cause that's what I did, right? I ruin everything.” she snapped, but she couldn’t hide the emotion in her voice._

_She shook her head._

_“But I won't apologize, because you let this happen.” she continued. “You let me get to know you, take care of you, support you. You let me… fall for you.”_

_She paused, to make sure he heard her well. She was done with lies. He had to face the truth._  
_Bellamy put his head in his hands and swore. His body bent slightly forward, as if a weight was put on his shoulders._  
_Clarke felt a tear running down her cheek._

_“I fell for you, and now you're running away like a coward."_

_She walked to him, determined. She was standing almost toe to toe with him. The proximity was a torture for her, but she was hoping it was torturig him, too. She knew he could feel her close. She could hear his heavy breathing. This way he couldn't avoid her. She stared at his hands, hidinh his face, and took a long breath._

_ "Cause yeah, I love you.” she said, choked up. “I love you so damn hard I can't even _think_ properly. And you know what? I tried so, so hard to let you go. Hell, I was ready to believe you didn't feel anything for me.”_

_Slightly, as if careful not to scare him, Clarke put her hands on his and pull them away so she could see him. He didn't resist. Her heart missed a beat – his eyes were wet, pain was written all over his face. Clarke suddenly felt exhausted. Her anger wasn’t doing any good. It wouldn’t bring her peace, not when she was hurting Bellamy in the process. Even after everything that happened, she still couldn’t bear to see him suffer._

_“But you do, I know you do." she kept going, her voice almost soothing. "I won't ask you to stay. I won't ask you to leave her for me. I just want you to be honest for once. _Talk to me_, I'm begging you.”_

_Her hands were still holding his. Bellamy closed his eyes._

_“I love you.” she whispered. “I'll always love you. But I need this to move on, Bellamy."_

_The world seemed to go quiet after that._  
_She felt her body relax, her heartbeat slow down. She felt free, in some way. Everything she thought, she told him. Whatever happened, at least she would never regret not telling him how she felt. He knew, and there was no coming back._  
_All she could do was wait, hoping he would do the same for her._  
_The moment seemed to last forever, when Bellamy straightened up. His gaze met hers, and for the first time that night, she saw _him_._

_"I love Gina." he murmured._

_Clarke’s heart sank. Her hands let go of his._  
_Her words didn’t change anything. He would never tell her the truth._  
_He loved Gina, and that was it._  
_Clarke didn’t have a place in his world._

_“Okay.” she said, coldly, as she walked past him._

_ "No!” he caught her arm._

_Clarke refused to look at him as she tried to escape his grip. _

_“Listen to me, please.” he pleaded. “You want me to be honest, and I will, but you have to listen to everything I say."_

_Clarke froze._  
_She considered his words for a few seconds - she did want to listen to him, but what if he was just going to rub it all in? What if she'd been wrong all along and he didn't care about her? But her curiosity was stronger than her fear. She sighed, giving in. Bellamy let go of her arm, but his fingers rested on her wrist. He resumed what he was saying, his eyes on her face._

_"I love Gina. I do. I've loved her since the day I met her." _

_He paused, watching Clarke's reaction. She remained still, hoping she looked composed. But by the way Bellamy sadly smiled at her, she knew he was right through her. _

_"She's my first love. When I'm with her, I feel... happy. Peaceful.”_

_Clarke tried to ignore the ache in her heart._  
_Bellamy sighed._

_“I always knew I would spend the rest of my life with her. It was obvious. I would marry her, grow old with her, have a family with her... And we had our lows, it's true. But even then, I never doubted that my place was at her side."_

_His fingers at her wrist brushed the back of her hand, sending shivers down Clarke’s spine._

_"... until I met you." he murmured._

_Slowly, their fingers intertwined, making it difficult to breathe for Clarke. She leaned towards him, without even being aware of what she was doing._

_"Clarke... you have to understand that you shook my world upside down. You made me question everything I believed in. You were just a stranger. A new, pretentious teacher.” a small smile appeared on her lips as he said that, but Clarke was too absorbed by his words to reciprocate it. “And somehow you found your way to me, or maybe I found my way to you, and... you understood me. More than anyone ever did. And I loved it. I needed you in my life. You became my friend. But I didn't realize..."_

_He hesitated, biting his lip._

_ "I didn't realize until it was too late that I couldn't spend a day without seeing you, hearing your voice, saying your name... Fuck, you make me insane, Clarke.”_

_Clarke felt the electricity in her whole body. It was so strong it made her dizzy._  
_He was telling her the truth. She knew it. She knew he felt something for her. She wasn’t stupid or insane. It felt so good to hear him say it out loud._

_“I think about you constantly, so much so that it keeps me awake at night.” he continued, his voice nearly shaking._

_He put his other hand on her cheek._

_“I see your face each time I close my eyes.”_

_For a delusional moment, she thought he might kiss her._  
_She wasn’t sure she would’ve have the strength to reject him. She was too stupidly in love with him for that._  
_But then he sighed, and she knew he wouldn’t do it._

_“And you're right, I am coward. I lied to myself, again and again. Because... because... it's not right. I shouldn't... I shouldn't want...”_

_Clarke looked down._  
_No, it wasn’t right. But then why did it feel so good?_

_“I can't do this to Gina." he whispered, defeated. "And if you think I don't hate myself for this... if you think the idea of hurting one of you doesn't kill me…" _

_He paused, maybe because it was all so overwheming and the words wouldn't come out. Clarke understood this feeling perfectly. He clenched his jaw._

_"And know I did." he said through his teeths. "You both deserve so much better. I'm… God, I'm so sorry for what I did. I'm sorry I didn't act before it was too late. I'm sorry I made you believe that we could..."_

_His voice broke and his shoulders sank, as if he didn’t have the strength to carry the weight of his guilt anymore. Clarke silently wiped a tear off his cheek. He leaned in, so his forehead rested on hers. They remained like this, both crying, as Clarke tried to find the right words to say. Words which would make it all okay, which would prevent Bellamy from leaving, which would allow them to be friends again. But she couldn’t find any._

_"I don't know what to do.” Bellamy murmured, tortured. “Maybe..."_

_“SHIT! Shit, shit, Gina!” someone swore._

_Both Bellamy and Clarke startled, moving quickly away from each other at the same time. Bellamy took a few steps back, his eyes wide, his whole body suddenly tensed. Clarke looked on her right, and froze._  
_Gina was standing a few feet away from them, her arms crossed against her chest, impassive as a panicked Jasper joined her._  
_Jasper spotted Bellamy and Clarke, and immediately understood._

_“Oh shit!.” he repeated. “I’m sorry. Fuck.”_

_Clarke wasn’t sure who he was apologizing to, but she wasn’t paying attention. The only thing she could process was the betrayal in Gina’s eyes as she stared and stared at the two traitors in front of her._  
_Clarke opened her mouth, but no sound came out. It was too late._  
_She’d done it again. She ruined everything._  
_She just wanted to say goodbye._  
_Bellamy reacted first, taking a step towards her._

_“Gina, I…”_

_“Shut up.” Gina snapped._

_Bellamy stopped, swallowing hard._  
_The four of them didn’t move for what seemed to last for hours. Gina, her jaw clenched, wasn’t getting her eyes off Bellamy. Sometimes she would stare at Clarke for a few seconds, which always gave Clarke goosebumps, before focusing back on Bellamy._  
_Just when Gina seemed to be about to say something, the door of the building opened._  
Fuck_, Clarke thought._  
_Could it get any worse than that?_

_“Gina? What’s going on?” inquired Octavia, right before her eyes landed on Bellamy… and Clarke._

_It took two seconds for Octavia too understand, and one more for her eyes to be invaded with anger._

_“What is _she_ doing here?” she demanded, pointing a finger at Clarke while staring at her brother._

_“I can explain.” Bellamy said._

_He must’ve known it wasn’t the right thing to say, because he winced right after he said it. Octavia ignored him, and instead turned her attention to Clarke._

_“What’s your problem? Huh?” she shouted, getting closer to her._

_Clarke took a step back and instinctively rose her hands in front of her._

_“I… I…” she stammered._

_“So what, you can’t help it?” Octavia continued, getting closer. “You’re so obsessed with the idea of getting what you want that you can’t let it go? Is that it?”_

_Fury was deforming the brunette’s face._  
_Bellamy took a step to the side, as if he hesitated to put himself between his sister and Clarke. Gina noticed it, and for the first time Clarke saw genuine pain on her always-so-composed face._  
_Gina always seemed in control. Even when she knew Clarke loved Bellamy, she remained calm and firm._  
_But seeing Bellamy standing by Clarke’s side was too much, even for her._

_“O…” Bellamy started, but just as he did so the door of the building opened again._

_More people came out to join them. Clarke recognized Monty and Harper – both look extremely worried – amongst other friends. Miller was one of them, and the disapproving look on his face made Clarke feel even more shameful._  
_Fantastic. They had a public._  
_It was getting worse and worse. Clarke sighed. Bellamy clenched his fists and groaned._  
_Murphy stepped out, frowning, a beer in his hand._

_“Hey, what the hell is going on here?” he asked accusingly._

_He didn’t seem to care or to be aware of the situation Bellamy, Clarke and Gina were in. He only seemed frustrated the party was interrupted._  
_A tall, handsome man immediately walked to Octavia and put a comforting hand on her arm._

_“Are you okay? Why are you all out here?” he asked her, his voice so smooth there was no doubt in Clarke’s mind this man desperately loved Octavia._

_He must be Lincoln. Bellamy had mentioned him a few times._

_“Ask Bellamy.” the brunette replied, venom in her voice._

_But Bellamy seemed desperate, his eyes going from Gina to his sister. Clarke knew that whatever he’d say, Octavia and Gina would blame him._  
_Yet, it was Clarke who decided to show up._  
_She should be the one who’s blamed._

_“I just came to say goodbye. That’s all.” she explained to Octavia, even though her eyes were focused on Gina’s face._

_Octavia snorted._

_“That’s all?” she repeated, mocking Clarke. “You mean, just like the other times you harassed my brother?”_

_“Octavia.” Bellamy warned._

_“I don’t know how you did it, but well done!” Octavia kept going, unstoppable. “You succeeded in manipulating my brother, you ma-“_

_“I didn’t manipulate him!” Clarke snapped back._

_“You’re just a selfish bitch!” Octavia hissed._

_“Hey!” Harper intervened._

_“O’, slow down.” Lincoln said, scowling._

_Murphy burst out laughing._

_“This is going too far.” Harper insisted, walking past Octavia towards Clarke._

_“So what, you’re defending her?” Octavia fumed._

_“This is none of our business, we should let th-“_

_“This IS my business when-“_

_“ENOUGH!” Gina shouted over the voices, startling everyone._

_Everyone went suddenly quiet._  
_Clarke realized her heart was beating abnormally fast. The adrenaline had taken over her body. Everything had escalated so fast._  
_Gina heavily sighed, shaking her head._

_“I’m done.” she declared. “I’m getting out of here.”_

_Clarke heard and saw many different reactions to her words._  
_Confusion, concern, shock._  
_As for Clarke, she felt numb._  
_Maybe, hopefully, it was all a bad dream and she would wake up soon. She closed her eyes and counted to three, but when she opened them again she was still stuck in the nightmare. To her surprise, Gina was still there, facing her. Instead of leaving, she took a few steps towards Clarke, a sad look on her face._

_“You know…” she started. “It’s too bad it all went down like this.”_

_Clarke wished she could say something, anything, but her mind went blank._  
_She felt so lost. There was a gleam in Gina’s eyes she couldn’t quite understand. Before she could come back to her senses, Gina turned around and walked down the street with haste._

_“Gina, wait!” Bellamy called, following her._

_Gina came to a stop, but not because of Bellamy. She took a key out of one of the pockets of her jeans, and opened the car beside her._  
_Bellamy reached her._

_“Hey, it’s not safe. You’ve been drinking…”_

_“Are you coming or not?” Gina asked Bellamy._

_She sounded frustrated, bur her eyes were pleading._  
_Octavia joined them._

_“Gina, let's just go back inside. There’s no need… ”_

_"I can't stay here." _

_"Come on, just ignore her. We'll -"_

_"It's too late." Gina sighed, then cut Octavia off when she started to argue once again. “Please, O’. I need to think.”_

_Octavia hesitated, then nodded._  
_Gina got into the car, but not without casting one last look at Bellamy._  
_Clarke held her breath._  
_He didn’t move for a second, then his eyes landed on her. They stared at each other for maybe two seconds, and yet Clarke understood exactly how he felt._  
_There were so many things left unsaid. If only things were different, if only they had more time…_  
_It was probably the last time they would see each other. From the moment he would get into this car, they’d have to move on with their lives, without ever being able to forget the other completely._  
_They were cursed to love each other until the end, even with thousands of miles separating them._  
_They were doomed from the beginning._

_But Clarke saw, in his eyes, the mourning of a life they could’ve had together. A life where they would’ve been free to love each other without all this pain. She knew he saw it in her eyes, too._  
_A tear rolled down her cheek._  
_And it was over._  
_Bellamy turned around and silently got into the car. Clarke watched it go far, far away from her, as she felt her heart being ripped off her chest. A comforting hand rested on her shoulder. Someone started yelling at her. None of this mattered. He was gone._  
_End of the story._

_*****_

_Monty, Harper and Jasper drove her home before she could get into another fight with Octavia. They were dead silent during the entire way as Clarke cried silently, her head resting on Harper’s shoulders.  
She barely remembered arriving at her apartment or even sitting on her couch. Someone wrapped her in a blanket and put a warm cup of tea in her hands.  
Her cheeks were still wet, but she wasn’t crying anymore. Everything seemed to be in a haze.  
Even if she was too lost in her thoughts to concentrate on anything, she was very aware of the whispers her friends were exchanging around her. She didn’t want to listen to them.  
Mechanically, she brought the cup to her lips and took a sip of the tea, almost cold. Maybe she’d been on that couch, staring in the void, for much longer than she thought. _

_She heard someone sighed, again, beside her. _

_“Still no answer?” whispered Harper, right next to Clarke. _

_“No.” Monty answered. “Octavia is worried. Bellamy usually always answers her calls…” _

_“I’m sure they’re fine.” Jasper countered. _

_Harper shrugged. _

_“They probably just want to be alone.”_

_“It’s been two hours.” Monty insisted. “They both had a few drinks before taking the car. We never should’ve let them…”_

_Monty’s voice trailed off, and everyone went silent.  
She heard without understanding what they were saying. But somewhere in Clarke’s mind, she knew something was wrong.  
She didn’t react, though. The only thing she could think about was Bellamy and his last words to her. She could still see his eyes staring at her, grieving, before he got into the car.  
He was gone. With _her_.  
Until the very end, their relationship had been chaos. She was hoping for a peaceful goodbye and got the opposite.  
Did she have the strength to move on? She had to. All this pain had to be for something.  
A buzzing noise disturbed her thoughts. Monty was frowning at his phone. _

_“Maybe I should try to call him again.” he murmured. _

_“He won’t answer.” Jasper rolled his eyes. _

_“We just want to know if they’re okay. We don’t even know where they went.”_

_“Yeah, well.” Jasper sighed. “If his _sister_ can’t reach him, I don’t who will.”_

_“I don’t know, maybe if w-“ _

_Monty suddenly paused.  
It took Clarke a few seconds to realize the uneasy feeling she felt was due to three pairs of eyes focused on her face.  
She scowled at them. _

_“What?”_

_Her three friends exchanged a knowing look, their eyes wide. _

_“It’s a bad idea.” Harper immediately said. _

_“Yes, but if there’s anyone who can talk to him…” Monty mumbled. _

_“We don’t know if he’ll answer.” _

_“I say it’s worth a try.” Jasper said. “If it works then we won’t have to worry anymore.”_

_Harper bit her lip, seemingly worried.  
Clarke was slowly coming back to reality. Confused, she concentrated on the bribes of conversation she’d overheard to understand what was happening.  
The realization hit her full force. _

_“You want me to call him?” she exclaimed, her voice hoarse. _

_No way. She wouldn’t do it. _

_“Just once, to check in.” Monty reassured her. _

_“No.” Clarke shook her head. _

_Enough.  
She’d told him what she wanted to, she’d been fully honest. There was nothing left to say.  
She couldn’t come back to him after everything that happened.  
It was a final goodbye, and even if it was a torture to her, she would commit to this silent promise. He made a choice, and it didn’t include her. _

_“But…”_

_“No.” Clarke repeated firmly. “This is not negotiable.” _

_She got up then, ending the discussion._

_*****_

_Clarke sighed, hesitating.  
She eyed her phone in her hands, biting her lip.  
She didn’t want to call him, she truly didn’t. Her friends respected her decision.  
But she couldn’t stop thinking about it.  
It’d been more than three hours since her last conversation with Bellamy, and still no news of him or Gina.  
Harper, Jasper and Monty went home, leaving Clarke alone with her tortured thoughts. It is only once they were gone that the haze she was lost in cleared up, and she realized what had happened.  
With realization came concern.  
Where were they? Why weren’t they answering their phones?  
Maybe it was nothing.  
But it could be important. _

_Clarke stared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t look good. Actually, she looked so bad Clarke stared down at her phone again.  
She’d been thinking and thinking about this for half an hour, in her bathroom. She was so fixated on her own thoughts and memories to realize how much time had passed.  
Her friends’ words came coming back to her.  
‘Just once, to check in.’  
Would he answer her, even though he didn’t even answer for his sister?  
Was it really worth a try? _

_“Ugh!” Clarke groaned. _

_She wished she could stop thinking all together. Life would be easier.  
No, calling him wasn’t a good idea. But if it could allow her to relax a little, and hopefully sleep, then maybe she should try.  
He wouldn’t answer the phone anyway, so why did it cost her so much?  
It just felt like a never-ending circle. Seeing him, watching him leave, pleading him to talk to her. Repeat.  
Clarke was exhausted. She wanted all of this to be over.  
But the worry was killing her. _

_“Fuck it.” she muttured. _

_She picked the phone, search for Bellamy’s name in her contact list and called him.  
Her heart stopped at the very moment she heard the familiar ‘beep’ of the call.  
_Beep. Beep. Beep.  
‘Don’t answer, please, don’t answer.’_ she thought.  
_‘Answer me, please, answer me.’_ she silently begged.  
It seemed to last for hours.  
_Beep. Beep. Beep._  
Clarke felt nauseous, anxiety making it hard to breathe.  
_Beep. Beep. Beep._  
He wasn’t answering.  
She was just one call among the others.  
It didn’t mean anything.  
She was about to put the phone down when:_

_“Hello?” _

_Clarke froze, taken aback.  
The voice was calm, almost welcoming.  
But it wasn’t Bellamy’s.  
For a few seconds, Clarke remained still, agaped. She blinked a few times. _

_“Gina?” she finally inquired, clear disbelief in her voice. _

_“H-“ Gina started. _

_But a terrible, horrific sound cut her off._

_“GINA LOOK OUT!” she heard Bellamy scream on the phone. _

_Clarke’s breath caught in her chest. Her heart stopped beating.  
The sound of tires spinning on the road.  
A crash.  
More sounds of shatter, jolts and collisions.  
And nothing. _

_“G-Gina?” Clarke trembled. “Gina, are you there?” _

_She took a shaky breath, waiting.  
No answer.  
She looked at her phone – the call had ended.  
Feeling the panic rising and rising in her chest, she tried to call again.  
It was fine. They were fine. They had to be.  
But Bellamy’s phone was turned off. The call ended right after she brought the phone to her hear with a single _‘beep’_. _

_“Come on. Come on.” she quaked. _

_She tried again.  
And again.  
And again.  
But it couldn’t be…  
They were fine. Everything was fine.  
They couldn’t…  
No. How…?  
She had to tell someone.  
Her body shaking with force, Clarke called Monty.  
She didn’t realize she was sobbing until he picked up the phone.  
She couldn’t even talk. _

_“Clarke? Clarke, what’s going on?” Monty was shouting, as Clarke couldn’t control her cry. _

_“I-I-I…” she started, between one of her shaky breaths. ”I-I think… S-Something h-happen…” _

_“What?”_

_“B-Bellamy and Gina.”_

_“What about them?” Monty insisted, sounding more worried than ever. _

_Clarke couldn’t bring herself to say it.  
But she had to.  
She had to warn them. _

_“Accident.” she managed to blurt out, before she fell on the ground and broke down under the weight of shock, pain and despair. _

* * *

** _02/05/2016 _ **

_She waited for the longest hours of her life before she got to the hospital.  
She didn’t sleep. None of them did.  
After the call, Monty called an ambulance. But how can you report an accident if you don’t know where it happened?  
It turned out, someone living a few streets away from the scene of the accident had already called.  
So, they waited.  
Clarke stayed at her apartment. Octavia went to the scene with Lincoln and Miller. Monty and Harper spread the news.  
They were bad.  
And they kept coming.  
_‘They don’t know how much damage was done’_, they first told her. ‘_But the car is almost crushed.’  
_Then, much later:_ ‘They’re both seriously injured.’  
_Finally, only an hour before she showed up at the hospital: _‘Clarke, they’re unconscious.’  
_Time had stopped.  
It couldn’t be real. _

_Clarke didn’t believe it. She had to see it with her own eyes.  
Because there was no way Bellamy wasn’t okay.  
He would be seated on one of those uncomfortable beds, a few bruises on his face, complaining because he couldn’t go home.  
He would see her and even after everything that happened between them, he would reassure her with a smile.  
Gina would then join him, and Clarke would leave them alone.  
There couldn’t be another scenario.  
It couldn’t be so sad and painful.  
There had to be another explanation. _

_She was seated on a chair, waiting for someone – Octavia, Lincoln, Miller – to come back and tell them what they knew.  
Jasper, always so joyful, was curled up beside her, a somber expression on his face. She’d never seen him like this, so… down.  
Harper and Monty were home, changing.  
Clarke looked up at the clock hung on the whole. Seven a.m.  
Her last conversation with Bellamy seemed to have happened ages ago.  
Everything was so different, then.  
This moment seemed so important to her.  
But hours later, none of this mattered.  
He had to be okay.  
He had to be. _

_She heard hasty steps getting closer.  
Clarke didn’t react to the sound. It was probably a nurse.  
Yet, the steps only seemed to get closer and closer.  
Too close.  
Clarke looked up.  
It all happened very quickly.  
She saw an enraged, crying Octavia rushing to her.  
Clarke got up instinctively.  
She wasn’t even fully standing when something slammed into her face.  
The impact was so violent, Clarke almost fell on Jasper. _

_“Oh my god!” Jasper exclaimed, helping Clarke to stand on her feet. _

_Clarke’s vision was blurred for a few seconds. She could hear a constant buzz in her head.  
Her cheek hurt. _

_“YOU BITCH!” Octavia screamed at her. _

_Clarke was too shocked to say something.  
Octavia had just _slapped_ her. _

_“YOU KILLED HER!” _

_Clarke clang to Jasper, disorientated, confused. _

_“What…?” Jasper asked, speaking for her. _

_“SHE’S DEAD!” Octavia barked, as they were joined with a few people pushing her away from Clarke. “GINA’S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!” _

_Finally, Clarke stared at her.  
She saw the fury and the agony in Octavia’s eyes.  
And she knew.  
It was true.  
Long curls and kind brown eyes suddenly invaded Clarke’s mind.  
Gina.  
Gina was dead.  
Her last words were for Clarke.   
'Hello?'  
_ _The buzzing in her head became louder.  
She had killed Gina Martin.  
If Clarke'd never showed up at the party....  
If she hadn't call...  
Clarke felt her body falling.  
And everything went black. _

* * *

** _17/05/2016_ **

_She just had to see him once.  
Only once.  
Then, she would know.  
She was careful not to tell anyone, knowing Octavia would never let her.  
She knew the number of the room, thanks to Harper.  
She would be quick.  
She just needed to know if it was true. _

_The past two weeks were full of overwhelming emotions.  
Clarke felt like she was slowly dying.  
Everyday was a test, to see if she had the strength to keep going.  
The shock was gone, replaced by guilt and a hole in her chest, swallowing her whole.  
Gina’s funeral was last week.  
She didn’t go, of course. She wasn’t welcomed anyway.  
And seeing that grave, with her name on it…  
Clarke’d rather jump off a cliff. _

_Two days ago, she heard the news she’d been waiting for ever since that night.  
It was the only reason she was still forcing herself to eat and get out of bed.  
Hope.  
Hope was a tragedy.  
When it was there, it kept people alive.  
But once it was gone, it only left destruction.  
And Clarke was hoping it wasn’t true. _

‘He doesn’t remember the past years of his life. Clarke, we think… He doesn’t remember you.’  
_Who told her that? She couldn’t even say.  
She was too numb to realize what was happening.  
Could it get any worse than that?  
No.  
If there was a God out there, He would have mercy. He wouldn’t take everything away from her.  
Bellamy couldn’t forget her. How could he?  
She had to exist somewhere in his mind, in his heart.  
Because whatever happened between them, it was real. All of it. The love, the desire, the pain, the tears, the anger. It was all real, and she wouldn’t let anyone take this away from her. _

_Her heart beating fast in her chest, Clarke reached the room.  
Her hand touched the knob.  
She took a deep breath.  
Even if Octavia or Miller were inside, she would only focus on Bellamy.  
If their eyes locked, then she would know for sure.  
The idea of seeing him again made her dizzy.  
She didn’t hesitate long.  
She burst into the room, her eyes already searching for his face.  
She was suddenly side, right in front of him.  
He was lying on a bed, his face turned towards a bouquet of Tulips on nightstand beside him.  
Someone else was in the room – Clarke saw out of the corner of her it was only a nurse. _

_Only a second passed, but it seemed to last forever.  
His eyes went from the flowers to her face.  
Clarke exhaled, the relief of seeing him invading her body.  
He was there, looking at her.  
But something was off.  
Something was wrong with his face. It had nothing to do with all of the bruises and scratches.  
Bellamy stared and stared at her… as he would stare at a stranger.  
His brows furrowed, confused.  
The nurse reached Clarke, putting a hand on her arm. _

_“You’re not allowed to be here, Miss.”_

_Hope was a tragedy.  
Hope was gone, and its absence was crushing her.  
He didn’t remember her. _

_‘I’m sorry… I-I’m sorry...’ she muttered absentmindedly. _

_He didn’t remember her.  
He didn’t remember how they met. How they became friends. Their laughs, their touches, their kiss… all forgotten.  
Including herself. _

_*****_

_A few hours past before she was able to do it.  
She knew Octavia wanted this.  
There was no point in staying anymore.  
She had nothing left.  
Miller will have to do it. Her friends would never accept. _

‘I’m leaving Arkadia next week.’ she wrote him. ‘I need a drive to the airport. I’m sure you can do that.’

_He would be glad to do it.  
She pressed _send_. _


	27. The forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand I'm back!  
Sorry for the wait. I recently had to take a break from SM and writing, which is why it took me a little bit longer to publish this.  
We're getting so close to the end, I can't believe it!  
I don't usually associate a song with a chapter, but I definitely do with this one. I put it here just in case, it could maybe help you understand the mindset in which I wrote this, and what I wanted the characters to feel.  
"There's a thorn in my side  
It's the shame, it's the prize  
Of you and me, ever changing  
Moving on now, moving fast"  
The Irrepressibles - In This Shirt  
Hope you're going to like this chapter, kudos and comments are always welcomed ❤️

**16/03/2019**

Tragedy.  
What could be said about tragedy?  
There are two definition of this word.  
The factual one. A very sad event, involving death or suffering. Sometimes both. People always apologized for this kind of tragedy.  
_‘I’m sorry for your loss’_ they all kept telling him, even months after the accident. He didn’t care about their apologies, because they were meaningless. This kind of tragedies was always meaningless. Why do people die? Why do they forget?  
Nobody could answer that.  
It was different for the other kind, the other definition.  
Bellamy used to be fascinated by Greek tragedies. The way the story perfectly constructed itself towards the hero’s miserable fate, as he’s unable to escape it, bonded by an almost delightful irony to his own demise. In an effort to avoid the unavoidable, the hero fulfilled his destiny. It was dark, appalling.

Bellamy always hated the idea of being doomed whatever happened, the idea that his choices didn’t make any difference because his story was already written.  
But as he stared ahead, his feet carrying him towards the place where his life changed forever, he found a kind of reassurance in this thought. He could tell himself it wasn’t his fault, it was unavoidable. Maybe he was the hero of a Greek tragedy and it was all meant to happen from the beginning.  
How easy that would be.  
It wasn’t the truth though.  
Sometimes people made mistakes. He’d made mistakes.  
And tragedies happened.  
Gina died.  
Bellamy lot his memories.  
Clarke left.

He wondered – what had been the turning point?  
Out of all the wrong choices he made, _they_ made, which one led to the accident?  
All of them, probably.  
Things could’ve, should’ve been different.  
As his feet came to a stop and his eyes focused on the environment around him, Bellamy took a deep breath. His hands twitched at the sight of the crossroad.  
It all happened there.  
Two years, eight months and half ago, Bellamy lost a part of himself right there, on the road, as Gina lost her life.  
In a desperate, stupid attempt to reach the memory, he left his hand.  
He could visualize it. The car. Gina by his side.  
It was in his head, he could see it clearly.  
But he couldn’t do anything to stop what was coming. The headlights coming closer, so fast.  
A tragedy.

A breeze of cool air made him shiver, bringing him back to reality. He dropped his hand, looking up. The sun was low in the sky, blinding him when he looked on his left. He frowned. He didn’t realize how late it was, and how long he’d been walking.  
He was probably in shock. His brain had a hard time processing everything. His emotions were all over the place.  
It was so… overwhelming.  
It burned too know how much he’d hurt Gina and Clarke. He broke them, as he broke the promises he made to them again and again. He couldn’t believe how stupid he had been.  
But then again, it was undeniably… him.  
Of course, he loved them both. At the same time.  
Of course, he didn’t want to hurt them and ended up doing exactly that.  
But he would probably make the same dumb decisions again. It made his jaw clench, knowing he couldn’t lie to himself. His brain wasn’t quite the same as it was before the accident, but his heart remained intact.  
And his heart always won the battle between the two. Sometimes, to a huge cost.

Bellamy sighed, hiding his face behind his hands.  
He’d made mistakes. But was he the only one to blame?  
No.  
They all made mistakes.  
Gina made mistakes.  
Clarke made mistakes.  
Clarke…  
Thinking of her sent a wave of pain in his chest. He swallowed with difficulty.  
He'd been right. She used to love him. She still did.  
His heart missed a beat as he remembered her voice over the phone. He’d memorized the message she’d left on his phone almost perfectly.  
_‘Bellamy, I love you. I always have. And I always will, even if it kills me.’_  
She loved him, and it was torture.  
She was as broken as he was. It hurt.

Bellamy paused, his mind going through all the memories he had of her. It all made sense. Every look, every smile, every word, every emotion he could see on her face… it all made sense.  
Her shock and fear when he first saw her. She wasn’t expecting him.  
Her refusal to talk about that night. Her tremor when she said Gina’s name. Her determination to push him away. Her denial of the love they once shared.  
She was punishing herself.  
_‘Sometimes I even wish we’d never met.’_ she’d said. _‘I won’t have a happy ending. But you will. I have to believe that you will.’  
_Will he?  
Clarke told him he’d chosen Gina over her. But she was wrong. If he had, none of this would’ve happened.  
He closed his eyes, feeling the weight of guilt on his shoulders.

“Bellamy.”

He didn’t move, didn’t react at first.  
The voice seemed far, as if he were in a dream.

“Bellamy.”

He opened his eyes.  
He turned around slowly, his eyes already searching for her. He felt somehow numb, lost.  
He froze.  
She was standing there, a few feet away from him, her blond hair in the wind. Her eyes, her cheeks, her lips were red. She’d been crying.  
And she was beautiful.  
The reality of her, being there, being real, hit him full force. Something awakened in his chest.  
It felt like he’d been waiting forever for her.  
Her mouth was moving, but no sound came out. She was hesitating.

“I-I didn’t know where you were…” she finally said, her voice shaking. “I’ve been looking for you.” 

Bellamy couldn’t do anything but stare at her.  
He saw her in a different light.  
He noticed details he missed before, and others he was aware of, but suddenly had a different meaning.  
Her hands trembling because of the panic. _‘Gina died because of me.’_  
The way she looked at him. _‘Bellamy, I love you.’_  
The glint of fear in her eyes. _‘I don’t deserve you.’_  
The shape of her lips. _‘I kissed you.’  
_He was _seeing_ her.  
A tear rolled on cheek as she told him:

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

These words echoed others – ones he said himself, a long time ago.  
In the only real memory he had of the years of his life he’d forgotten.

* * *

** _02/05/2016 _ **

_Gina stopped the car, parked on the side of the road.  
The engine noise suddenly stopped, leaving a resounding, choking silence behind it. Bellamy felt numb.  
Gina’d been driving for at least two hours, during which neither of them said a word – except when Bellamy reminded her she shouldn’t be driving.  
‘_I had one beer and a virgin mojito, Bellamy. I’m fine. Leave me be.’_ she coldly responded.  
It was nearly two am. Bellamy didn’t even know where they were going, and he suspected Gina didn’t either. She just needed to… escape. Just like she used to go on a trip without him, because she had to _‘take a break from reality’_.  
But he respected that. Especially then, when she felt the need to run away because of him. Him, and his stupid decisions.  
He had so many things to say to her, to apologize for, and at the same time his head felt empty. He wasn’t sure how much she’d seen, how much she’d heard. But it didn’t really matter.  
Long minutes passed, as Gina stared ahead of her with a blank face. She didn’t look at him, didn’t acknowledge him, as if he wasn’t even there. Bellamy watched the rain falling outside, intensifying as time passed, and tried to think of something to tell her. He struggled to find the words._

_"I'm... I'm sorry." he eventually whispered, because there was nothing else to say._

_Gina didn't react, her eyes fixed on something in the distance, expressionless.  
Bellamy's heart sank._

_"I am." he insisted. "I know that's not what you want to hear, but I..." _

_Bellamy clenched his jaw, his hands. He felt ashamed, defeated.  
He was such a fucking asshole. All he did was hurting people he loved.  
Gina sighed heavily. _

_"Fuck, Gina." Bellamy continued, looking down. "If you knew how much i hate this, how much I hate myself..."_

_"Listen." Gina said, her voice even, still looking ahead of her._

_But Bellamy barely heard her over his thoughts and the words coming out of his mouth._

_“I hurt you. Again and again. And I try so fucking hard-"_

_"Bellamy."_

_"And I know - i know it doesn't excuse anything. I know I don't deserve you. You sh-"_

_"Hey!" Gina snapped, her eyes finally landing on Bellamy, making him stop. "Listen to me." _

_Her voice was firm, her eyes were determined. But as she stared at Bellamy for a few seconds, her face relaxed a little, and a sad smile appeared on her lips. She sighed again and put a hand on his. _

_"Listen to me. And I mean it, listen. Don't try to interrupt me to apologize or explain yourself, just listen... please." she added, her voice breaking slightly on the last word._

_Bellamy pursed his lips, knowing very well he'd have to control himself. His apology was still on the tip of his tongue, waiting to come out, the guilt weighting on his chest. But he nodded, because Gina didn't want to hear it. He could see that.  
Gina waited for a few seconds before her eyes left his face, and she stared in the distance again, thinking.  
Bellamy waited, his heart beating fast with anxiety.  
It seemed to take forever before she finally started. _

_"I was wrong." she only said, at first. "I was wrong for thinking I could fix this. That I could keep you with me." _

_Bellamy opened his mouth, ready to object, but Gina stopped him before he could even make a sound_

_"No! That's the deal. Listen. When I'm done, we'll talk." She explained calmly, before resuming. "It's the truth, Bellamy. I was wrong for thinking that if I kept holding on to you, you would hold on to me... to _only _me." _

_Bellamy closed his eyes for a second, taking the hit.  
There should’ve been only her.  
But he was stupid and naïve. He’d let his heart opened for someone else to take it.  
Now, his heart was breaking in two, irreconcilable parts.  
Gina locked eyes with him, closed to tears. Bellamy felt a lump in his throat._

_"I love you, and I want you to stay with me.” she whispered. “Loving you made who I am, and it seems… unconceivable to live without it. I don’t want to live without it. I want to take this love and lock it in a cage, throw the key somewhere and keep you with me forever."_

_She looked down, her hand shaking on his. He could see she was fighting the tears threatening to fall. She opened her mouth a few times, but couldn’t seem to say the words. Bellamy waited, taking her other hand in his and holding on to it.  
She cleared her throat._

_"But-“_

_Her voice was barely a murmur. She cleared her throat a second time. _

_“But.” she started again, raising her voice, insisting on every syllables. “That's not the way it supposed to be. I shouldn't put you in a cage. And I'm realizing that’s what I'm doing."_

_Shock prevented Bellamy to answer. He stared at her, agape, his brain having a hard time comprehending what he just heard.  
Gina didn’t wait for him to react, she kept talking hastily, probably to keep him from interrupting her._

_"I was selfish, too, you know. I did some things I'm not proud of...” she took a shaky breath. “I'm aware my recurrent trips to Europe affected our relationship. I chose music over you countless of times and you always accepted it, so why would I force you to chose between your relationship with her and your story with me?” _

_Her voice broke, but she quickly pulled herself together. _

_“That's what I told myself, at least, when I noticed the way you talked about her on the phone. You seemed so happy. I could hear the smile in your voice when you said her name. It worried me. A lot. But I thought - _’He has the right to have this. You can't take this away from him, even if you fear he might care for this girl more than he admits to himself.’_”_

_Bellamy pursed his lips.  
He didn’t realize how much she’d noticed these little changes in him. _

_"When I came back, I knew it was too late. You…” _

_She took a shaky breath. _

_“You loved her.” _

_“Gina…” Bellamy immediately said, but she shook her head. _

_“I could see the way it was eating you from the inside. You could barely look at me. And I know you, Bellamy. I know you so well. You were never going to push her away, because you couldn't bear the thought of hurting her. I accepted it, even if it broke my heart." _

Even if it broke my heart.  
_Bellamy knew what he’d done, of course.  
But it hurt to hear her say it._

_"So I went to see her,” Gina continued, “and I asked her to let you go.”_

_Bellamy froze.  
She…? How…?  
His mind went through all his memories of Clarke once Gina was back, trying to pinpoint the moment everything had changed.  
Gina winced. _

_“I thought… if she was the one pushing you away then it would be easier for you. I was certain you would remain loyal to me, you just had to accept you wouldn't see her again. But I was wrong."_

_She bit her lip, as if saying those words was physically costing her. _

_"It wasn't her who was keeping you from moving on, it was me. It's because you feel loyal to me that you can't let yourself love her, and not the other way around." _

_A tear rolled down her cheek.  
Bellamy was speechless. He wanted to deny it, to reassure her.  
But a small, tiny part of him knew she was telling the truth.  
And it was killing him. _

_"It took me a long time to realize this, but we're not good for each other anymore, Bellamy. We loved each other, we always will, but we have to accept we're not the same people we used to be. We have to let each other go. _I'm _letting you go, and I forgive you.”_

_Bellamy tighten his hands on hers, the ache in his chest making it hard to breathe. _

_“You shouldn’t have to forgive me.” he choked up. “That’s not fair to you.”_

_Gina leaned in, resting her forehead against his, closing her eyes. _

_“It’s okay, Bell. I’ll be fine.” she told him, her voice soothing him. “We’ll be fine, just… not together.” _

_“Gina…”_

_“Shhh. It’s okay.” she repeated. _

_She whispered those words again and again, until he could barely hear them. They remained like this for a long time, silently crying, both knowing it would be the last time they ever held each other like this.  
It was a goodbye. A bittersweet one.  
Even if every nerve in his body hurt in that moment, Bellamy believed her. He hoped one day he’d be able to look back, to remember Gina without feeling on the verge to crumble on the weight of guilt and shame.  
He'll be fine. They’ll be fine.  
At some point – Bellamy couldn’t say how much time had passed – Gina slowly straightened, her hands relaxing in his, but unmoving. Bellamy stared at her, waiting. She smiled wistfully at him. _

_“I think…” she started, her voice hoarse. “We should probably go back and reassure everyone we’re okay.”_

_Bellamy nodded, coming back to reality.  
They must be worried. He’d turn off his phone after the third call from Octavia, feeling the need to take a break from the rest of the world.  
Gina started the car. Bellamy barely noticed the rain until then - it was pouring.  
As Gina drove, slowly, Bellamy took his phone out of his pocket and turned it back on. His phone started buzzing non-stop, so much so the screen kept glitching. _

_“We should’ve at least sent a text.” Gina sighed. _

_“Yeah…”_

_They stopped at a crossroad in a descent, the sound of the rain hitting the windows invading the car. There were alone on the road.  
Bellamy was about to call his sister when his phones buzzed once again, the name CLARKE appearing on his screen.  
He froze and looked up at Gina, hoping she didn’t notice.  
She did.  
Her eyes were fixed on the screen, but there no animosity in them. She was calm, thinking. Bellamy wasn’t sure what to do.  
Then she extended her open hand to him, a tight smile on her lips. _

_“Is it okay if I answer?” she asked Bellamy, almost shyly. _

_Bellamy stared at her, confused. _

_“I just… want to make peace with her.” she explained serenely. “We all deserve to move on.”_

_Bellamy didn’t give her the phone immediately, hesitating, expecting her to change her mind. Her determination didn’t waver.  
He handed the phone to her, a strange feeling in his chest. It all felt surreal. Maybe he was dreaming. His eyes landed back on the road when she picked up.  
Then, it all happened simultaneously. The world seemed to stop.  
Bellamy felt something die inside of him, as if the inevitability of the tragedy was hitting him.  
First, it seemed something wasn’t… right. He looked outside and was finally able to discern the slightest movement… coming from them.  
The car was slipping down the descent. He realized with horror the front of the car already reached the crossroad, and kept moving.  
Gina answered the phone – _‘Hello?’_  
Something on his left caught Bellamy’s eyes. Headlights.  
A car was coming in their direction and there was this… sound.  
Brakes.  
The other car was aquaplaning – and coming straight to them.  
Someone screamed. The headlights invaded the vehicle, blinding him.  
He felt a powerful shock hit his body.  
And the world was black. _

* * *

**16/03/2019**

Clarke was frozen, her body shaking as she stared at Bellamy, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
He was staring back at her, but his eyes were unfocused, as if his mind was somewhere else. He didn’t move, his hair tangled by the wind.  
She took a careful step towards him.  
She’d been so scared, so panicked.  
She couldn’t find him, and Raven had no idea where he was. He wouldn’t answer his phone. She was almost hysterical in the uber as she kept asking the driver to change the trajectory. She was a mess.  
But at last, he was there. In front of her.  
And she was petrified. At loss of words.  
He must hate her. He must hate her.  
That was all she deserved.  
If it weren’t for her, Gina would be alive.  
He hated her.

But she had to tell him. What exactly? She wasn’t sure. But something had pulled her towards him, just like that terrible night.  
A chill went down Clarke’s spine. She knew where they were – at least she’d guessed it.  
She wasn’t sure where it happened exactly, which is why it took her so long to find him. Soon, it would be dark.  
She stared at the crossroad and her breath caught in her chest.  
It happened there.  
The sight of the road combined with her memory of that night sent a wave of pain and shock through her body.  
She stopped for a few minutes, trying to control her breathing.  
When her eyes landed on Bellamy again, he seemed as lost as before. Broken.  
They were both broken. She did that.

“Oh, Bellamy.” she sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

She kept saying it. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.  
She whished she could fix the world with apologies. It would be a much better place.  
But nothing she could say would change anything.  
She clenched her fists to keep her hands from shaking.  
She took a few steps closer.

“I-I just… I know you must hate me for what I did. But, I – I never wanted – I never meant…”

Her breath was uneven, keeping her from saying the words clearly.  
She tried to calm down, a hand on her chest.  
In and out. In and out.  
Everything was so slow, so painful. She felt weak, crushed.

“I just wanted to say goodbye.” she blurted at some point. “You were leaving and… and…”

Images were invading her head, making her dizzy.  
There were too many.  
His face when he got into the car. His lips on hers. His words whispered in her ear. His arms around her waist. His smile as at her. His tears as he left her.  
Too much.

“I wish I could take it all back.” she continued, looking down.

Maybe she was talking to herself.

“I wish I could make you… make her stay… It’s not fair. Fuck. I never wanted this.”

She got closer to him, or maybe he got closer to her.  
Her head was buzzing. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest it hurt.

“I was selfish, and stupid, and – and… I understand if you can’t forgive me. I should’ve let you go. None of this would’ve happened. It was a mistake. A mistake… The phone call, I never thought she would… I can’t…”

Something broke inside of her.  
Probably what was left of her heart.  
She didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. She wished she could disappear. She wished she never existed.  
Living hurt too much.  
Nothing had meaning anymore.

“I can’t… I can’t…” she wept.

“Stop.”

She startled, looking up.  
Bellamy was close now – only a few steps away from her. The clouds in the sky were a bright orange, illuminated by the descending sun.  
His eyes weren’t staring in the void anymore.  
They were staring at her. The look on his face was so intense, she felt it to her core. But she couldn’t understand it, couldn’t read him.  
Did he hate her? Did he forgive her?

“Enough.” he said, his voice firm.

Clarke’s heart sank.  
Of course, he didn’t want to hear what she had to say. He didn’t care about her apologies.  
What was done couldn’t be undone, and she had to live with that.  
But he could be happy. He had a chance to move on with his life without her in it. She would let him.  
A whimper escaped her lips. She put a hand on them, to keep herself from making anymore sound.  
_‘Just leave him’_, she thought. _‘Leave him alone.’_  
She forced her feet to move, turning her back on him. She didn’t have the courage to look at him and memorize his face one last time. She’d done it countless of times, always thinking it was the end. But it never ended, and it kept hurting more and more.  
She straightened, wiped the tears out of her cheeks, and walked away.  
_‘Stop cyring. Stop crying. Just walk.’ _she repeated herself.  
It was over.

Something gripped her arm and abruptly put her body to a stop, nearly making her stumble. Her breath caught in her chest with the shock.  
Hands.  
Hands were on her body, forcing her to turn around. She hit something hard – a chest.  
His chest. His hands.  
His lips on hers.  
Everything clicked in her hand and she realized… he was kissing her. Bellamy was kissing her.  
She could feel him everywhere. His warmth was overwhelming her, sending a wave of electricity through every nerve of her body.  
His lips were still brushing hers when he whispered:

“This is not your fault.”

One of his hands rested on her cheeks, pushing strands of her hair aside, as the other tightened on her hips, pulling her closer.  
He kissed her again.

“This is not our fault.” he whispered again. “This is not our fault.”

He said again and again, in between his kisses.  
Clarke’s frozen body finally reacted.  
She took his face in his hands and responded to his kiss with passion. She felt his tears slide down her fingers, as hers kept wetting her cheeks.  
She chose to believe him. She chose to believe they weren’t monsters, and she let herself being in love, even for a minute.  
When they had to catch their breaths, Bellamy just slightly stepped back to look at her.  
She saw no anger in his eyes, no resentment. She saw sadness, melancholy.  
And love.  
He kissed her again.

“I love you.” he murmured.

And she felt the weight of his words to her very core. He loved her.  
It was him. He was complete. Her Bellamy. Not the one from her memories. Not the broken one. A mix of both, that made him who he was.  
And she loved him.

“I love you.” she said it back.

After all those years, their heart were only pieces.  
But she could feel them slowly being put together – pieces of them carefully finding their way back to each other, forming a whole.  
It was only the beginning. Maybe some pieces were lost forever.  
But they would be strong. They would move on, finally.  
Together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that you should NEVER drive after you've been drinking. Stay safe.


End file.
